


Songs for the Moon

by fromneptune



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Books, Friendship/Love, Gang War, Heavy Angst, I swear there is a happy ending, I'm Sorry, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Swearing, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, strong daisuga and bokuaka, there is fluff too i promise, they love harry potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-29 10:29:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 26
Words: 80,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8485855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromneptune/pseuds/fromneptune
Summary: People gave up on the infamous gang leader at Tsukishima's school. When he skips class and goes to the roof one morning, there Kuroo is, staring at the sky. With him, his policeman older brother, an idiot couple and a trigger happy foe, Tsukishima finds it difficult to lead a normal life.Tsukishima wanted to take the costume off. It didn't suit him, despite whatever his strangely dressed partner said."Why am I in a cat costume?" He'd thought it was a crow. He'd been told it was a crow."Because you're my boyfriend.""That logic makes no sense. Get this off me."





	1. A Town in Blue

**Author's Note:**

> I've decided to plunge myself into kurotsuki hell once more...  
> I had the idea of bookstores and gangsters and lots of angst and out came this story. And there's a plot/non-romantic storyline.  
> There will be some sex scenes and references to them, but they aren't the main focus. They also probably aren't that great, lol.  
> Also: most, not all of the chapters are going to be based on a song.  
> Enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song for this chapter is "Aru Machi no Gunjou (A Town in Blue)" by AKG. This chapter is sort of a prologue to the story.

He ran like the wind. His feet carried him along like feathers, and his wide back looked as if it would sprout wings. Nothing, not even the world itself, could stop him then.

Tsukishima Kei was sure of it. He didn't know who he was; this boy who ran into the school building like lightning, like he wanted to stop the woman he loved from leaving on that train. He couldn't have been that enthusiastic about starting school again, because that was the only time he saw him since then.

Of course, he didn't think much of it. But today, he was unusually bored during English, so he decided to go to the rooftop. He really meant to just stay in the bathroom, but it smelled (as adolescent bathrooms usually did), and he found himself walking up the stairs to the rooftop. When he opened the door, he felt a gust of wind push him back. He shielded his eyes from the sudden flash of light. When his eyes adjusted, he saw him.

He was on the floor, his face to the blue sky and his eyes closed.

He was the same rooster head from that day. This time, he was still, seemingly asleep, and had a miswak stick between his teeth. The boy’s shirt was unbuttoned, and his pants not buckled tightly enough. As Tsukishima inched closer, rather than peacefully sleeping, the boy seemed like he was sighing.

Even so, none of this was Tsukishima’s business. He shouldn’t spend his alone time analyzing a stranger. It wasn’t long, however, until the boy opened his eyes and sat up. It was as if he wasn’t aware he was at school and skipping class. “Water...” he said quietly.

Tsukishima looked around and didn’t see a water fountain. He didn’t have any water with him, either. But he reminded himself that this person’s circumstances had nothing to do with him. So he just sat by the railings and looked down below. He saw a class in the field running around the track and he saw an old woman passing by. He then saw a policeman apprehending a boy, maybe around his age, with short brown hair and a grin. This boy had bruises and a black eye, but he didn’t seem to care.

The policeman reminded Tsukishima of his older brother, Akiteru. He was also a cop and tended to be overly passionate about it. Whenever he got the chance, he always told Tsukishima he was going to protect him.

“Don’t tell me—Sawamura got himself caught again? I always tell him to be more careful, but he never listens.” The voice attached to these words was almost as eerie as the person attached to the voice. Tsukishima turned his head and saw the boy looking down at the ground. He was chewing the miswak stick and didn’t fix his shirt or belt.

Suddenly, as if this were the first time he’s ever noticed him until now, the boy faced Tsukishima with wide eyes. “Who’re you?”

He hesitated to respond. “No one,” he mumbled.

“Huh?” the boy was almost irritated. “What the hell? You’ve gotta be _someone._ You have a name, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah...”

“Then?”

Tsukishima sighed. “It's just Tsukishima.”

“Man, you’re weird.” The boy smiled. “I’m Kuroo. That guy who doesn’t go to class.”

The next day Kuroo did in fact go to class. He was a senior and Tsukishima was a freshman, so he wasn’t sure it really happened, but his existence alone was enough to shift the atmosphere of the school, so he could imagine how it would be if he was finally sitting in class, learning (or pretending to try to learn).

And it was a party. The teachers cried (even those who didn’t teach seniors) and the principal held an actual party. All of this disgusted Tsukishima. He wondered if they were worried about why he hardly ever went to class, even if he didn’t really have to, because he was excessively smart. He wasn’t quite sure why he was so irritated about it.

Although Kuroo went to class, Tsukishima learned on the roof that he fell asleep during English. “I lived in America for a long time.”

“Okay.”

Kuroo frowned. “Why don’t you sound more interested?”

“I don’t really care...” This was a partial lie, and Tsukishima would come to regret this later.

“Man, you’re mean.”

After that, Kuroo didn’t come to school again until later next week. He acted as if nothing happened, as if the whole school didn’t just go wild over his return only to watch him disappear again.

During lunch (Yamaguchi learned Tsukishima had been skipping English and didn’t let him leave anymore), on the roof, Tsukishima found Kuroo sleeping with an eye mask over his eyes. It was black with the words “FUCK OFF” written in bold. How was he able to come to school with this?

Again he was chewing on a miswak stick. Tsukishima figured he either used them as a substitute for smoking or he just liked having nice teeth. He watched him for a while, noticing his long eyelashes and ear piercings. He did this until he caught himself and turned to look down below, as he usually did. He took out his headphones and lunch.

All was peaceful until suddenly, from behind, Kuroo snatched his headphones and put them on himself. “Emo rock?” he asked.

“Don’t jump to your own conclusions please. It’s alternative rock.”

He grinned. “Riiight.”

“And don’t take my headphones again.”

“Okay, Grumpyshima.”

Somehow, in one way or another, this became routine. Tsukishima would go on the roof during lunch and Kuroo would be there. Tsukishima would have his headphones on but Kuroo would try to speak to him still. Sometimes he succeeded, sometimes he didn’t.

He knew Kuroo was a delinquent. He knew he was smart but annoying and troublesome, though he didn’t know just how far his delinquency went. When he told Yamaguchi about his endeavors on the roof, his freckled friend turned pale. “You’ve been hanging out with _him_?”

“I guess...?”

“Instead of me?”

“Oh.” Tsukishima rolled his eyes. “The roof is quiet, but you’re always afraid to go up there.”

“You know I don’t like high places! But seriously, Tsukki, be careful. I heard he’s the leader of the biker gang that runs around here.”

Tsukishima was hardly surprised. “He’s a gangster?”

“Yeah.”

He tried to picture Kuroo as a tough guy with a pompadour and a short temper, but he couldn’t. Even if he was a gang leader, he wasn’t your average one. He was weirder than that. A normal gangster wouldn’t go to the roof of his school to find solace.

Although he knew he shouldn’t be too curious, to learn more he called and asked Akiteru. He was a cop, so he probably knew about these things.

 _“Stay away!”_ was the first thing he said.

“What?”

_“Stay away from him. You’ll only get into trouble. Trust me.”_

“Nii-san, are you sure he’s a gang leader?”

_“I’ve met him before. I can just never catch him. Plus he's a minor. There are protocols.”_

He didn’t know if it was a child’s instinct or just simple curiosity, but because the people he knew were telling him not to, he decided to do the opposite.

On the roof one day, as the end of the year inched closer, Kuroo gave Tsukishima a good luck charm. He was smiling, which wasn’t rare, but it still made Tsukishima want to look the other way. “So that you have good luck next year,” he said. “There are a lot of these at my dad’s shop.”

“Thanks?” He wasn’t sure why he gave this to him.

“Hey, can I ask you a question that you might not understand?” Kuroo asked, his tone turning darker.

Tsukishima hesitated. “Okay...”

“Have we met before?”

“What?” This was the last question he expected, especially since he figured he would very much remember someone as strange as him. “I don’t think so,” he answered.

“Are you sure? I feel like we have, but I can’t put my finger on it. It’s all a blur.”

“I would remember you,” he said. Immediately afterwards, he regretted it, because Kuroo stopped and looked at him with large, happy eyes.

“You would?”

Tsukishima tried to feign ignorance. “Hm? Would what?”

“Alright, fine, be like that. I already think you’re weird for talking to me.”

“I’m not the weird one. What kind of gangster gives someone a good luck charm?”

Kuroo paused. “So you know?”

“What? Oh, well, yeah.”

“And you still come here?”

Tsukishima didn’t know how to respond. There was something a little too earnest in his voice and his eyes, and this frightened him. He wasn’t the type of person to get scared by anything because he would get frustrated instead, but this time was different. There was something in him that made him want to comfort Kuroo, but he didn’t know how.

After a while, he said, “Well, yeah. The roof is quiet, after all.”

* * *

Somehow, in some inconceivable way, Kuroo Tetsurou managed to graduate. Everyone, especially Tsukishima and Kuroo himself, was surprised. The most surprised one was his father. He was in tears. But as he and Tsukishima approached him, Kuroo didn’t hug him or cry with him. Instead he asked, “Just who are those tears for?”

He walked away from him and pulled Tsukishima along. “You’re not going to ask?” he said to him.

“No, I’m not,” Tsukishima replied. He didn't want to get further involved.

They stopped at the school gates. “That reminds me,” Kuroo said, taking off a button from his jacket. “Here.” He pulled out Tsukishima’s hand and placed the button in his palm.

At first, he didn’t understand. Then he did, and his face flushed to his ears. His hands were shaking and his heart failed to stay in one place. He, in an instant, became a mess. “Don’t tell me this is your second button...” Normally, Tsukishima wouldn’t believe in such a (romantic) tradition, but nothing about his short-lived relationship with Kuroo was normal.

The perpetrator, walking away with his diploma in hand, put a finger to his lips and smiled. Tsukishima angrily shouted, “You idiot! Why are you giving me this?” He looked down at his hand and wanted to throw the button down to the ground. But like glue, it stuck to his hand.

The boy like the wind disappeared as quickly as he flew in.

* * *

“Kei. Tell me, how is school?”

Tsukishima’s mother would occasionally ask him this, and whenever she did, it would be over dinner. He didn’t always answer. In fact, he almost never did.

His mother was a free spirit; she had long blonde hair that was graying and wrinkles near her eyes and mouth when she smiled. She had a personality completely opposite from his. Although it didn’t seem like it, Tsukishima loved his mother. When it came to her, he understood Akiteru’s wanting to protect them.

This time, when his mother asked him that question, he answered her without really answering. “Does a second button still mean anything anymore?” Now that Kuroo was gone, probably free and fighting as he pleased, Tsukishima didn’t go to the roof as often. It’d only been a few months since Kuroo graduated, but he constantly found himself thinking it'd been a year.

She paused. With an almost ecstatic voice, she said, “Did someone give theirs to you?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

“Kei! You _think_? Tell me she’s your girlfriend now.”

“Uh…no…” Tsukishima left out the fact that it was a delinquent boy who did it.

She sighed. “My boy, please don’t be like your brother. Please, for this old woman’s sake, find someone.”

He didn’t want to disappoint her, but he knew that was probably never going to happen. He could hardly handle his best friend sometimes; how could he handle romance with anyone?

He couldn’t. That’s what he told himself to keep him sane, especially since the world seemed like it couldn’t give him a break.

When Tsukishima went home alone that day, it was because Yamaguchi had a student council meeting. He saw the bookstore that was across the street from his house, and decided to take a look. It wasn't very new, but for some reason he never felt like going inside until today. It was a small store stuffed with books. It had blue walls and blue floors. It even smelled like lavender.

Tsukishima’s mind definitely pictured a middle-aged woman running the place, so when the exact opposite showed up, he almost ran out. When the person at the front desk saw him, he smiled, as if it hadn’t been a few months at all. As if it was just another day. “I knew I was going to see you again,” Kuroo said. “It’s been a while.”

“I thought you died in a fight or something,” Tsukishima replied, half irritated at the situation and half confused.

“I wouldn’t die that easily!” Kuroo exclaimed. He then added, “Well, you’ve never seen me fight, so you wouldn’t know.”

“So? What are you doing here?” Tsukishima asked.

“I should be asking _you_ that. This is my old man’s store. I live here.”

He paused and went outside. The banner on the front said Kuroo Books. He looked across the street and saw his house, then he looked back at the banner. Kuroo walked up to him. “What are you doing?”

Tsukishima almost wanted to laugh. “You live across the street from me.”

Instead of seeming surprised, Kuroo seemed happy to know this. “Seriously? Lucky me,” he chirped. In a moment of silence, Tsukishima watched Kuroo go from his usual cunning smile to his rare, more genuine one. He saw his body language shift. A slight breeze from the open window ran through his hair. He said, “You don’t really know me and I don’t really know you. Believe it or not, I think I have feelings for you. But I don’t know why.”

"...You don't know why?" This was probably the last thing Tsukishima wanted to happen. He hardly understood if Kuroo was even being serious, because they were both boys, yet he spoke as if that didn’t matter and as if they’ve known each other for years. He didn’t understand this person's feelings or their origin, much less his own.

Kuroo scratched his head. "I mean, your glasses make you pretty attractive. And...you made me want to go to school."

All Tsukishima could say was, “Oh.”

Kuroo continued as if he wasn’t looking for a response from the start. “So, here is my proposal: You come and join my crew.”

In Tsukishima’s eyes, the confession was less absurd than this. “What? No,” he said immediately.

“Why not? We have to stick together!”

“Why is that?”

“I just told you why!”

“That’s pretty selfish then, isn’t it? You might like me, but I never said I wanted to continue being friends with you.” In his words that came all out at once, Tsukishima caught himself. He turned away from Kuroo’s smug grin.

In that store full of blue, surrounded by books, the gangster proclaimed, “If, according to you, we’re already friends, that's exactly why you should come.”


	2. Night Diving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tsukki meets the gang and goes for a night swim (against his will). The song is "Night Diving" by AKG.

Tsukishima was quiet as they walked to Kuroo’s hideout. He was normally quiet, and Kuroo knew this, but that didn’t make it any less unnerving. In reality, he was quiet because of a certain nervousness that came to him. He suddenly realized the magnitude of what he (barely) agreed to; he was going to meet people who were, arguably, criminals.

It wasn’t until they stopped walking that Tsukishima realized they weren’t walking to the hideout, they were riding there. Kuroo stopped at a motorcycle, reached down and handed him a helmet. “Hop on,” he said, putting a helmet on himself.

“You just happened to have two helmets?” Tsukishima had to ask.

“No, I got it for you. It’s yours,” Kuroo said bluntly, as if that didn’t insinuate at all that he’d planned this from the start.

Reluctantly, Tsukishima sat behind Kuroo on the slick black bike. Reluctantly, he held on to his waist. As he saw a small grin form on Kuroo’s face, he figured that’s what he was anticipating the most. He was about to let go when the motorcycle engine began humming. It was a loud, invasive noise that Tsukishima didn’t like. As he started driving, it got better, and he began to feel like he was riding on water. The ride was fast and smooth and he could feel the wind on his face, through his hair.

He hadn’t felt anything like it before.

Finally, they reached their destination. It was dusk now, and that made it difficult to see the entrance. “Wait, is this someone’s house?” Tsukishima asked.

“It was,” Kuroo answered, “but no one lives in it anymore. If you smell something weird, it’s probably the wine they left. And technically, we only use the basement.”

After going through the passageway in a gate, Kuroo led Tsukishima into a dark room. However, it wasn’t long until that room slowly filled with light, and sitting in the chairs were a lot of boys playing cards. On the floor were two of them, seemingly wrestling.

When they looked up and saw their leader, they jubilantly exclaimed, “Banchou!” They dropped their cards and ran to Kuroo. The two wrestling continued to do so. To Tsukishima, they all looked like a swarm of cats.

“Everyone is here, right? Nothing happened while I wasn’t here?” Kuroo asked them.

A short boy answered first. He seemed indifferent, but since Tsukishima was the same way he could tell when others like him were actually happy. The boy was shorter than him, but seemed older; he had bleached hair with black roots and pointed eyes. His appearance was everything short of a gangster: a red hoodie, baggy sweats, and black Chuck Taylors. His voice was quiet when he spoke.

“Nothing big happened, but those two won’t stop fighting,” he said, motioning to the two on the floor. One had a short peach-colored cut and the other had long, silvery hair. Tsukishima could tell the pink-haired guy was significantly shorter than the other one.

“Even Kai couldn’t stop them?” Kuroo asked.

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” Kuroo glanced at Tsukishima as if to say, “Stay here,” as he walked towards them. They didn't notice him until he tore them apart and gave both of them right hooks to the face.

"K-Kuroo-san!" The silver-haired said, holding his face in pain. The pink-haired only looked at him and scoffed. He spit out some blood.

 _He must have hit them hard_ , Tsukishima thought.

"What do you two think you're doing? Why is it always like this with you, huh?" He turned to the pink-haired and said, "Especially you, Yaku. You know how he is.”

The silver-haired spoke up. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I expect it from you, Lev." Kuroo turned to a tall boy with a buzz cut and another boy with a mohawk. "How did it start, anyway? Did Lev try to make move on him again?"

They nodded. "The same as always."

Tsukishima was almost surprised by this conversation, but he remembered Kuroo had confessed his feelings for him not too long ago. The boy named Yaku changed the subject to the thing no one seemed to notice. "Anyway, Kuroo, who is that guy?" He pointed to Tsukishima, who suddenly became the center of attention.

The guy with the mohawk said, "Woah! I didn't even notice he was here."

Kuroo smiled and said, "Our newest recruit."

In unison, the gang exclaimed, "What?!"

"What are you thinking? You can't just let anyone come here!" Yaku shouted.

"Well, he isn't just anyone. Like I said, he's our newest member. Besides, didn't Lev first come here by following you?"

"I'm not a stalker, though," Tsukishima made sure to add.

"Neither am I!" Lev defended.

"Anyway, his name is Tsukishima—Tsukishima..."

"Kei." Tsukishima eyed Kuroo in suspicion and whispered, "You claim to have feelings for me, but you didn't even know my first name?"

"You said your name was 'just Tsukishima.' Don't try to pin this on me."

"Whatever."

"So? What's so special about him? Can he even fight? He looks weak to me," the mohawk guy said.

"Listen, Tora. He's almost as smart as me."

That seemed to be good reason enough, because Tora immediately kneeled before him and said, "I will need your help in the future."

Kuroo clarified, "He means studying."

"He hasn't graduated?" Tsukishima asked.

"No. He's younger than me. Yaku and Kai are my age. Kenma, the pudding head, and that mohawk guy are a year younger. You, Inuoka over there—and Lev are the same age."

"But why did you exaggerate my intelligence like that?"

"I had to give 'em something. Otherwise they wouldn't accept it. It's not like you can fight."

Tsukishima was irritated for a reason he couldn't quite pinpoint. "I can, actually."

"What?"

"For self-defense, my brother taught me karate. I also know some judo because he's a—" Tsukishima stopped, because he knew that if he said "police officer" in that moment, everything that had hardly began would be over in an instant.

Kuroo seemed to not notice that he cut his sentence off. "Really? That's pretty amazing."

"It isn't anything special. But really, you don't know anything about me." As Tsukishima spoke, he realized that's why he was bothered.

"I did say that, didn't I? I want to know more about you. I still like y—"

Lev cleared his throat. "To you two in your own world, we can't hear your conversation, but we have important things to discuss."

There was a tense moment, but Lev continued, "Which one of us is going to get the food?"

Tsukishima didn't understand the people before him any more than he understood English class. He didn't understand why they seemed to not have a care in the world, or why they hardly seemed like gangsters at all. Instead they seemed like regular, hot-blooded teenage boys.

He would very soon learn that looks are deceiving.

They played rock paper scissors to choose who was going to buy the food. The last two losers ended up being Yaku and Lev. Tsukishima sighed in relief and relayed to Lev what he wanted to eat. As Yaku complained that it was Lev's fault he lost, Kenma pushed the two of them out. Kuroo called after them, "Don't forget the hot sauce for my mackerel!"

After a while, Kai walked over to him and asked, "They're not so bad, right?"

“Well, I guess. I’m not a big fan of hot-blooded people.”

“Hot-blooded people? Like Lev?”

“Exactly.”

“Kuroo seems pretty hot-blooded himself, though. He seems to like you. He doesn’t like many people.”

“That’s…” Tsukishima couldn’t finish his sentence because Kai had lost him with those last few words. After much pleading and begging, Kuroo pulled him into a game of Chinese poker. To everyone’s surprise, he was a fearsome player (which is why he didn’t want to play; everyone he played with hated him afterwards). However, all these boys did was laugh.

Soon after Tsukishima won, Yaku and Lev returned with the food. Like savages, they rushed in and ate. He turned to Kuroo. “Are they always like this?”

“Pretty much. We only get food like this on Fridays, because it’s drama night.”

“Drama night?”

“There’s this detective crime drama we watch on Fridays. Since there’s no TV, we watch it on Kenma’s laptop. It’s going to air in a few minutes, so get comfortable.” Kuroo walked over to the couch to grab a pillow.

Tsukishima had to ask it. The question was eating him up inside. “Are you—are you guys _really_ gangsters?”

Kuroo stopped and turned to him with a serious expression that almost frightened him. “We are,” he said, “but we’re human as well.”

After that, the show started. Tsukishima recognized it instantly; it was the show his mother and Akiteru both loved: _Detective Zero._ He was sitting on the couch and Kuroo was sitting on the floor underneath him. Due to this, he was partially blocking his view. “Hey,” he said to him, “you’re blocking my view. Bend over or something.”

Kuroo took no time in smoothly replying, “Then just watch me.”

Tsukishima heard Yaku make a gagging sound. “Man, can’t you say something that hasn’t been said in a goddamn book?”

“Get off my case,” Kuroo said.

“If you both don’t shut up right now, I’m giving you both fucking buzz cuts.” The owner of this voice was Inuoka, and this reveal surprised Tsukishima the most. He added, “No offense, Kai-san.”

“None taken,” he replied.

It was quiet after that. And because it was quiet and he was warm, Tsukishima began to drift off to sleep. The last thing he saw was the main character, Detective Rei, getting kidnapped by a mysterious figure. The last thing he felt were hands and a blanket covering him. It must have been Kuroo.

The last thing he remembered was his dream. It was more of a recollection, of something he once lost and his mind was telling him where to find it.

He saw himself, about eight years younger, and he saw another boy, probably older. He saw dark hair and a mischievous eyes. He saw forests, beetles, campfires and ice cream. He saw a pair of gloves. He saw that boy holding his hand as they walked up a green, infinite hill.

When he arrived home the next morning, his mother ran to him and cried and beat on his chest. She said she thought he'd been kidnapped, so she called everyone she knew: Akiteru, Yamaguchi and his parents. "Where have you been?" she asked, her voice shaking.

Tsukishima didn’t know how to handle his mother when she was like this. "Out with a friend. He already graduated, so I can't see him at school. I should have told you sooner. Sorry."

"Friend? Who?"

"The boy who lives across the street. The one whose father owns the bookstore."

His mother paused before smiling. "Oh. I see. If it's him, then it's okay."

Tsukishima didn't understand what that meant. “What do you—”

“Come on, breakfast is ready.”

* * *

He could tell his mother was uneasy about letting him leave again, even though he was only going across the street. Kuroo had texted him to "come over," and when he did, he saw him sitting at the checkout counter and reading. He was reading a book titled _The Wind-up Bird Chronicle_. The sight drew his breath away in a certain awe, and Tsukishima saw that as he learned more about Kuroo he seemed to understand him less.

Kuroo looked up and his face brightened as he saw him. He held up his book. "You have to read this."

"You called me over to read?" Tsukishima asked.

"Well, yeah. I guess."

Tsukishima sighed as he sat down on the chair at the other side of the counter. Kuroo gave him another copy of the book he was reading. He winced at its length. "It's going to take me eons to read this."

Kuroo reassured him, "You'll be fine, I promise. It'll feel like a day."

That was the first time his promise didn't hold.

* * *

The next time Tsukishima found himself at the hideout (meaning Kuroo dragged him there), Yaku and Lev were waiting for him. They explained they should probably talk about what the gang does and who to watch out for. Tsukishima wasn't worried about any of this, and it wasn't because he felt Kuroo was going to protect him. It was because he was the last type of person to look like a gangster, so he didn't see himself getting into trouble.

“Listen up. The only important things you really need to know about us, Nekoma, is as follows—”

Lev interrupted Yaku's presentation that was basically just writing on the back of a piece of paper that used to be a grocery list. He said, "You know, I've always wondered who named us. Like, why is it Nekoma? Are we supposed to be cats?"

Tsukishima sat silently as he watched Kuroo retain his composure, even though he could tell he felt insulted. "Ask the old man who was before me."

“Old man?”

“Yeah. His name is Nekomata.”

"Anyway, as I was saying," Yaku continued, "There are two other gangs allied with us."

“Fukurodani, I get, but I never said those damn crows were our allies,” Kuroo said. "Those guys are a flock of idiots."

Tsukishima cringed at the pun, and almost commented on it, but held himself back.

Ignoring Kuroo's bad pun (he must have been used to them), Yaku moved on. "The guys you should watch out for are the snakes. They all have snake tattoos on a part of their body, and they wear dark green jackets."

"Okay...I understand."

Kuroo leaned over and got close to his face. "Are you sure?"

"Does it matter? You won't give me a choice, anyway."

He laughed. "You're making me sound like a villain, Tsukki."

"Well, you're not a saint."  _And where did_ _'Tsukki' come from?_

Kuroo pulled out his miswak stick and put it in his mouth. He put his hands in his pockets. Tsukishima noticed his leather jacket and the hard edges of his build. His face was suddenly downcast and his eyes darkened. He sighed. "You're right. I'm not."

* * *

It wasn't Friday, but Tsukishima slept over at the hideout again. Kuroo wanted him to get used to the gang. When Inuoka arrived with some beers he stole from his father, the gang went wild. Tsukishima and Kenma were the only two who weren't interested in drinking, and although Lev was, Yaku banned him from doing so.

It wasn't easy to have Lev  _not_ do something, so Yaku's ultimatum must have been pretty big. He had whispered it to him, red-faced, and afterwards Lev was also red-faced. Tsukishima wondered what it was, but only for a moment. He had more pressing matters to attend to, and that was a drunk Kuroo.

Truthfully, he didn't have to do anything and he could have minded his own business. Truthfully, in hindsight, he probably should have. Kuroo wobbled over to him and shoved a beer can in his face. The can was ice cold on his cheek. He pried the drunk off him and handed him to Kenma.

"No way," he said. "I'm not taking him. He's heavy and moody." He handed him back to Tsukishima, who didn't catch him, so he fell on the floor.

From the poker table, Kai said, "There's a room down the hall. Can you take him there?"

The request would have been easier if the boy on the floor wasn't drunk and heavy. However, Tsukishima didn't have much of a choice, because Kuroo had been hugging his legs and that was much more annoying. Although he struggled, he carried him to the room. It was a small room, one with a futon and a window. He wondered why the gang had such a room to themselves, but then he wondered, why not?

He threw Kuroo on the futon and sat beside him. It was quiet, which he liked. Of course, though, good things never lasted.

"You wanna know something?" Kuroo asked. His voice was gravelly and his breath smelled. Before Tsukishima had the chance to answer, he continued, "Haruki Murakami is my savior."

Tsukishima wasn't surprised, even if it came out of nowhere. He couldn't understand what his drunken words meant, however. "That's nice, Kuroo-san."

"It is, isn't it? His books are so amazing. They're so weird and interesting. Kind of like you."

Tsukishima flinched. "Nice words won't butter me up."

"Oh, speaking of you, do you ever think the moon gets lonely?"

Tsukishima first saw this as a serious attempt of a bad pun on his name, but then he saw the look on Kuroo's face. He was laying on his side, looking up at him from the futon. He was earnestly asking him, and for some reason Tsukishima found that endearing.

"Do you mean me, or the sphere in the sky?"

"Why not both?"

"Well, the moon...it must be lonely. It's never able to meet its other half."

"Other half?" Kuroo repeated.

Tsukishima pushed up his glasses. "The sun."

* * *

The only reason Tsukishima would ever wake up in the middle of the night from sleeping was if his mother was doing so. Kuroo knew this about him because back in school, Tsukishima had went to the roof one day in order to sleep and told him to not bother getting him up to go back to class. So Kuroo's chances of getting Tsukishima awake were close to zero. Or so he thought.

"What are you doing, Kuroo-san?"

He held a finger to his lips and Tsukishima was reminded of graduation and the second button. Instead of running off this time, he took his hand and woke up the others, who were sprawled out on the floor. Everyone who drank, aside from Kai, had hangovers.

Kuroo didn't say anything to them, partly because his head hurt but partly because they understood without him having to do so. He simply pointed to Tsukishima.

They began walking somewhere, but the walk turned into a pace, then a run. Tsukishima trailed behind Kuroo's back, and remembered the way he ran when he first saw him.  _Maybe, back then, he was running from the police or something,_ he suddenly thought.

When they stopped, they were on a bridge, over a river. Even in the dark, Tsukishima could tell. The moon in the sky was high and bright as usual. He turned to Kuroo. "Now will you tell me what this is?"

"Jump," he stated.

"What? Jump? You mean die?" Tsukishima knew Kuroo and his gang were weird, but this was too much.

"Huh? Just look down. You won't die. _We're_ all still alive."

Kai stepped forward. "What he means to say is, this is a tradition for our gang. Whenever we get a new member, we all jump in the river to celebrate."

"It's cool, right?" Lev added.

"No way. Why do I have to do this?" Tsukishima said.

The gang exchanged glances. Inuoka jumped first. He dove in the water and came back up shortly afterwards. "Because why not?" he exclaimed.

Then, it was Kenma. As soon as he came back up he got out and sat on the grass. He, for one, didn't like water. After him came Yaku and Lev. Then Tora and Kai. Finally, it was only Kuroo and Tsukishima standing on the bridge. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

He hesitated to respond, but he somehow knew his answer already. "I guess," he answered.

Kuroo smiled and jumped down before him. He, in the water, held his arms out. "Jump, Tsukki!"

 _Fuck it,_ he thought. He jumped over the bridge with his legs up high. He felt the wind rushing up his body. As he fell in the water, he made a giant splash. Kuroo pulled him back up. His hair was wet and plastered to his face, so Tsukishima realized how long it was when it wasn't weird bedhead. His clothes were stuck to his body and Tsukishima noticed the outline of his torso. He dove his face underwater to wash the thoughts away.

"That wasn't so bad, right? Now you're a real member."

He was right and Tsukishima stayed silent because he didn't want to admit he was wrong. He felt wet and cold, but being next to laughing idiots and their leader made those feelings almost nonexistent.


	3. The Origin of the Dinosaur Hoodie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Escaping the cops, they meet the crow dad and Kuroo gives Tsukki a sweater.

He'd been trying to figure out, for the past five minutes, why he was on the back of Kuroo's motorcycle. He knew that he was listening to music in peace just (what seemed like) a second ago, and yet he found himself here. He heard sirens from behind them and remembered.

They'd been spray painting the walls outside of a grocery store. Tsukishima watched, listening to music as Kuroo shook a can and sprayed “STRAY CATS” in large red characters. He'd noticed a police motorcycle out front, and when he saw the shadows of two large men, he pulled Kuroo back and they ran to his motorcycle.

“Hurry up,” he said, “Let's go.”

Tsukishima winced as he realized it was actually himself who prompted their escape. For a while, he tried to figure out what was wrong with him, but couldn't come up with an answer.

“You're getting better at being one of us, eh, Tsukki?”

“Well...” He wasn't sure whether he liked that idea, especially because he didn't want to admit that he was trying to avoid his brother. He knew it would be hell if he were to see him with a gangster. Or, worse, because he  _was_ a gangster himself.

After riding for what felt like hours, way past the speed limit, they lost the police. Tsukishima had begun to feel somewhat nauseous, so Kuroo drove him back home. As Tsukishima leaned on his shoulder for support, he rang the doorbell while trying to hide his joy. A woman answered, and he immediately knew she was Tsukishima’s mother. She looked at her son, then at him, and smiled. “You must be Kuroo-kun,” she said.

“Well, yes, um, it’s nice to meet you.” Kuroo wasn’t sure whether she remembered, so he didn’t say anything more about it. Gesturing to Tsukishima, he continued, “I think he’s nauseous. We were riding for a while.”

“He’ll be fine once he eats. He tends to exaggerate when he’s hungry.” Tsukishima’s mother pulled her son over to her after calling his bluff.

“Oh, well, okay then. See you later.” Kuroo walked off, but Tsukishima’s mother stopped him.

“Kuroo-kun.”

He whirled around. “Yes?”

“Thank you,” she said with another smile.

Kuroo took this as her remembering, so he smiled in return and said, “No problem.”

Just as his mother said, Tsukishima was perfectly fine after eating. He was sitting in bed and reading the book that would take him eons to read, when suddenly Kuroo’s name revealed itself on his cellphone.

He recalled Kuroo taking his phone one day and putting his contact information on it. He was reluctant to answer, especially since they'd seen each other not too long ago. He wondered what exactly Kuroo had to say.

Tsukishima answered after many rings. Aside from wanting to make him wait, he quite liked listening to his ONE OK ROCK ringtone. “What do you want?” he asked.

From the other line, Kuroo’s voice sounded more like the hollow of an abyss than usual. His grit came through. _“Damn, that’s harsh. How are you feeling?”_

“I’m fine.”

_“That’s good. Umm…”_

“What?”

_“Your mom is beautiful. You’re her spitting image.”_

In his head, rang the words: _Are you calling me beautiful?_ As he thought them, he felt his nausea return. From his mouth, came the words: “Thanks.”

_“Also, what’s your favorite book? Is it a Harry Potter book or something?”_

Tsukishima was undoubtedly perturbed at the fact that Kuroo knew this, since he hasn’t remembered ever telling him.

“Book five, yes. How…how did you know that?”

_“I think you told me once before.”_

Tsukishima almost called bullshit on his reasoning, but he remembered that he might have told him at one point, he was just racking his brain for when.  “Then why did you ask?”

_“Just curious.”_

“Right. Okay. If that’s all, then I’m going to hang up.”

 _“Wait wait wait!”_ Kuroo insisted. _“After school tomorrow, meet me out front.”_

“Why?”

_“Why else? To go somewhere.”_

When the call went flat, Tsukishima noticed he wasn’t surprised by Kuroo’s abruptness or his vagueness. Instead, he honestly didn’t mind it.

* * *

Yamaguchi, for the first time since Tsukishima has known him, was angry. Even if the furrow in his brows or the wideness of his eyes or the flaring of his ears didn’t show it, he could tell. Nonetheless, it was more so frustration than anger that he was showing.

He’d slammed the table and had been standing over Tsukishima, who was sitting, for the past few minutes. Even though he was above him, he still seemed somewhat intimidated by the blonde sitting in front of him. He said, “Well, are you going to answer me or just sit there?”

Tsukishima wasn’t in the mood to argue with his friend. “I just go home after school, Yamaguchi. I can promise you I'm not getting into trouble.” Truthfully, he couldn't promise that. Not when he was allegedly friends with the volatile boss of the Nekoma gang.

“But you can't tell me who you're with?”

“I can't. You would kill me."  _Or you would tell Nii-san and he would kill me._

Yamaguchi sighed. “It's fine. I can guess who it is now. Just be careful, Tsukki. Please.”

“I know that already.” Of course, he would heed his friend's warning, but then again, it was only a warning.

Outside, he didn't see Kuroo. He saw Kuroo’s other half, his motorcycle, but the rider himself wasn't there. As he inched closer and examined it, he saw that it had been damaged. It was dented in more than one area and spray-painted with words he couldn't decipher. He knew Kuroo didn't do this. He couldn't have. That begged the question of who did. 

Tsukishima walked around to find him. He heard a noise, the sound of something breaking, and carefully headed towards it. 

Behind some trees, his eyes made contact with the person who’d just kicked Kuroo in his face. The breaking sound, he noted, was probably from when Kuroo punched him earlier, because now as he pounded his face in, Tsukishima heard the noise again.

Kuroo continued to beat the perpetrator (though objectively, it would not have been so simple to tell which one of them was the perpetrator) as he fell to the ground. Something, whether it was an electrical spark or the flame from a lighter, rose within Tsukishima. He realized Kuroo was taking the fight too far. The other guy was already nearly unconscious, yet he seemed to just be getting started.

It told Tsukishima that things were going to spiral out of control if he didn't stop it. And for him, it was never a matter of “Can I” but “Will I.” Nine out of ten times, he went with “I won't.”

This time, he went with the meager ten percent. Even he had felt uneasy upon seeing the vandalized motorcycle. Even he wanted to give the perpetrator his money's worth.

Tsukishima stepped forward and touched his shoulder. "Why don't you let him go now, Kuroo-san?"

As if his touch was like getting shot, Kuroo shut his eyes and turned away. “I wish you hadn't seen that.”

“It's too late. I already did.”

“I know.”

He stood up and looked down at his knuckles. The skin was peeled back, revealing the light pink of his flesh. He was bleeding, not only from his knuckles but also from his head, where the currently subdued boy had kicked him. Kuroo didn't realize how horrible he actually looked until Tsukishima frowned at him and said so. “Hell, all I wanted was some revenge. I see this guy destroying my baby, so of course I'm going to fight him,” he said.

“Your baby?”

“Yeah. Hermione is my baby.”

“Your motorcycle. Your motorcycle is your baby. And you named her Hermione.” Tsukishima couldn't believe his ears.

“Yes, exactly. What's so weird about that?”

“Are you serious?”

Kuroo frowned. “Quite.”

“Nothing, nothing. It's fine. You're not a complete nerd at all.” The sarcasm in his voice was sharp.

Kuroo slowly understood after a while. He felt offended, especially since he knew Tsukishima was more of a hard core Harry Potter fan than he was, but he kept this to himself. He looked over his shoulder at the boy who vandalized his bike. He wore a green jacket, but Kuroo didn't see any snake tattoo on him (he also didn't bother looking).

From below, the boy said, “This isn't over…”

Kuroo almost stepped on his mouth to silence him, but he remembered he was still with Tsukishima. “Let's go,” he said.

“Where?” Tsukishima asked.

From over his shoulder, he replied, “To get Hermione fixed.”

As Tsukishima started to follow him, he stopped upon seeing something at his feet. “Wait,” he told Kuroo.

The bleeding boy stopped. “What?”

“Here. You must've dropped it when he kicked you.”

It was his miswak stick. “Ah. Thanks. This is important, too. My mind was elsewhere.”

Tsukishima had a question he'd been saving for a while. “Why do you use that thing?”

“The stick? Well, I hate cigarettes and gum, but I need something to occupy my mouth.”

“Oh. I see.” Learning that he actually didn't like cigarettes somehow shed a new kind of light on him.

“So where are we going to get it fixed?”

Kuroo smiled. “To visit a guy I kind of hate.”

 

They weren't too far from the school. They got off the motorcycle (it still worked, only barely) and headed across the street. Kuroo stopped in front of the alleyway. He was watching someone who had short dark hair and a black hoodie. To Tsukishima, the person also seemed familiar.

The person had just slammed someone else to the ground with his fist. “Stay away from Suga,” they heard him say.

Kuroo stepped forward. “So it is you, Sawamura?”

Sawamura Daichi turned around slowly. He barely smiled at Kuroo. “Kuro. What brings you here?” He turned to Tsukishima. “And your friend…?”

“We're here for you, actually. Some assholes messed with Hermione.”

“You’re always getting into trouble.”

“Says the bastard who got arrested not too long ago,” Kuroo snapped.

He sighed. “Alright. Bring it in.” Leaving the guy he was fighting on the ground, he walked up to Tsukishima and held out a hand. “Sawamura Daichi. You are?”

He shook it, but Kuroo intervened and said, “Tsukishima Kei. Our newbie.”

“I can speak for myself,” Tsukishima mumbled.

“I know you can, idiot. This guy is just a lot sneakier than he seems,” he whispered. He said to Daichi, "So what was that all about, anyway? Did he do something to Suga?"

“He was just an ex who missed him. But he was the one who cheated.”

“I hate those types of people.”

“So do I.”

Even with just these words, Tsukishima already guessed that Daichi must have been this Suga person's boyfriend.

The place they went inside seemed like a loft. Its walls were painted with graffiti symbols and were on the verge of falling apart. It had the unusual scent of tobacco and cologne. There wasn't anything that indicated he had any expertise in motorcycles until he pulled out a toolbox. He examined the vehicle and said, “It isn't as bad as it could be. I can fix it. Just wait outside or something. I don't like working with other people watching me.”

So Kuroo and Tsukki stood outside to wait. They saw someone walk by with a dog on a leash. Kuroo asked him, “Do you like animals?”

“I don't dislike them.”

“I like cats more than dogs. But I guess that's a given.”

“I like cats. Dinosaurs are the best, though.”

“Dinosaurs?”

“That's what I said.”

“Cool.” Kuroo hid his excitement in learning this new information. He didn’t know this before.

Another question entered Tsukishima’s mind. “Where were we going to go? If your bike was fine, I mean.”

“Oh, that. I’ve had this craving for ramen for the longest time.”

He figured it was something like that.

The mood, for a few minutes, was good. They weren't talking, but between them, it wasn't necessary.

Suddenly, they heard sounds of panting and sneakers against the concrete. Tsukishima turned his head and saw his freckled best friend.

“I finally caught up to you,” he said.

“Yamaguchi? What are you doing here? Did you follow me?”

“Sorry,” he heaved, “I did. I was just curious. And worried. But I really wanted to know what was so fascinating about him that you go and join him…”

“I think I’m pretty great,” Kuroo professed.

“How did you know I’d joined?” Tsukishima asked.

“Come on. I saw him waiting for you outside. And stopping his fight? That’s more than enough.”

“But,” Kuroo said to Yamaguchi, “You do know that you have to keep silent about this, right? If his mother ever hears, she’ll freak out.”

“And his brother,” he added. Tsukishima tensed. He hadn’t told Kuroo (and never wanted to have to) that his brother was a policeman.

“So you understand.”

“I do.” He turned to face Tsukishima and lightly smiled. “See you later, Tsukki.”

Tsukishima felt somewhat empty as he watched him leave. He called out to him. “Yamaguchi!”

“Y-yes?”

“See you later.” Yamaguchi’s smile was larger this time.

Afterwards, they heard a voice from above. They looked up and saw Daichi poking his head out from a window. “You might as well come back tomorrow. I’m gonna need some more time.”

“What?” Kuroo exclaimed. “You couldn’t tell us that as you were examining it?”

“Look, do you want it fixed or not?”

Kuroo scoffed. It seemed to be his signature move whenever he didn’t have any other comeback. He grabbed Tsukishima’s arm and they started to leave. “I’ll be back tomorrow!”

* * *

When the sweater first appeared, he thought it was a mocking prank. He remembered that the only people aware of his love for dinosaurs were his mother, Akiteru, Yamaguchi and Kuroo. Then he realized that it was a genuine present, and that the only person who would do something like this was the person he met most recently.

Tsukishima lifted up the sweater from the torn wrapping paper. It was a dark green hoodie that resembled the body and features of a dinosaur, specifically a stegosaurus. “It has the plates and tail and everything…where did he find something this weird?” Tsukishima thought aloud. As he examined the hoodie further, he felt somewhat pleased. He liked it. He tried it on and liked how comfortable and soft it was, too.

He was about to call Kuroo's cell, but he thought of a better idea. He rushed out of his house and went across the street. Kuroo's father was at the counter, or the person he assumed was his father. He went out back and looked up at the window on the second floor. Kuroo sat there, still reading the eons-long book. Tsukishima had intended to pick up a rock and throw it at the window, but he stopped. He was being ridiculous and in the moment and stupid.

Still, because he was standing there, Kuroo would eventually notice him, and when he did, he opened his window and shouted, “It looks good on you! You're welcome!”

How could Tsukishima like something so much when he didn't even ask for it? How could Kuroo know what he was trying to say? Was it a secret skill you attained when you found someone you liked? English questions were easier than this.

 

The next morning, Tsukishima went out in the cold for an early jog. He wore his new hoodie, since in the short time he'd owned it, it became his security blanket.

While jogging, he couldn't stop thinking about how he was one of the very few people who enjoyed listening to hard rock early in the morning. As he came back, he eventually did stop; the reason being that he saw Kuroo near the bookstore kneeling on the ground. He looked closer and saw that he was feeding cats some canned tuna and giving them water.

The sight somehow made the colors around him brighter. It also reminded him of something. It reminded him of another boy he knew who was fond of cats. That boy also fed them canned tuna. He was only a few centimeters shorter than himself, had unruly jet black hair and sneaky eyes. He loved adventure.

Tsukishima understood now. That boy he was seeing in his dreams, the boy he was recalling bits and pieces about; the one who knew he loved _Harry Potter_ , was this one. It was him.


	4. Like Lightning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late night calls, chaos, a concert, and a glove. The song is "Heartache" by ONE OK ROCK.

All night, he thought about it. He thought about present Kuroo and young Kuroo and what happened those eight years ago. It amused him because he'd told Kuroo once that he wouldn't forget him if he'd ever met him before, but that in itself showed that he did in fact forget.

Since Kuroo had asked him if they've ever met before, didn't that mean he knew this entire time? If so, why didn't he say anything? As intriguing as these thoughts were, Tsukishima could only think about them for so long.

Just as he'd begun to fall asleep, he heard his ringtone playing. A call at this late in the night? It could only have been one person. “Kuroo-san. Why are you calling me so late?”

His voice was strained and croaky, and he even seemed to be breathing heavily. If Tsukishima saw him then, he would have thought he was having a nightmare. _“I have something to ask you.”_

“What is it?”

_“Can cigarettes light a house on fire?”_

Tsukishima paused. He inhaled but held his breath as if he were frozen in time. He hoped Kuroo wasn't being serious. “Why do you ask? What happened?”

_“Nothing. Never mind, it's stupid. Good night.”_

With that, the call ended.

Although the first time he called him this way was eerie, he called again the next night in a lighter tone. He called to ask him about what snacks he would want to eat if he got up and went to the store, then he sent him a picture of Hermione after repairs. The next night, he called to ask him about some of his karate techniques, since he'd never put them to use himself because he never got into any fights.

This quickly became routine for them. At first, Tsukishima had tried to end the calls as quickly as possible, but now he got used to them. Of course, he wouldn't go as far to say that he liked them. They lasted for hours.

One night, Kuroo asked him something he'd almost forgotten about.

_“You still don't like me, do you?”_

“Still? Like? What are you talking about?”

Tsukishima heard Kuroo's sigh through the cell. _“You forgot. Don't you remember why I had you join the gang in the first place?”_

When it came back to him, he nearly slammed his finger down on the end call button. He was reluctant to speak, but Kuroo's silence meant that he was adamant about getting an answer. So he said, “Right. That. Confession.”

Kuroo laughed. _“Why are you speaking in fragments? It's fine, anyway. I was just curious if your feelings changed. G’night.”_

“Oh. Okay.” Tsukishima couldn't understand him the way he couldn't understand inverse trig. The only difference was, he eventually would comprehend and become an expert at the latter. The former had yet to be so.

If anything, the main reasons why he couldn't see Kuroo that way were because 1) he was a boy, 2) he was a fearsome gangster, 3) his personality was the worst match up with his own, 4) everything about him was like reaching into a cloud of fog and 5) he was a boy.

He sighed and clutched his phone. He couldn't see it well in the dark, but he knew it was there. He sighed again. How was he supposed to sleep now?

* * *

A few days later, he explained this to Yaku. Of course, he left out Kuroo's “I like you” and the uncomfortable feeling in his chest, but he expressed his confusion regarding his understanding of said gangster.

“Basically, you're like the rest of us. You don't understand him, and neither do we sometimes.”

“But you get along well.”

Yaku looked down at the floor, as if it had a way to phrase what he wanted to say. “That's because we've been together for years. See, Kuro has been through a lot. All of us have. But he had to grow up much faster than the rest of us, otherwise he would have fallen apart. That's why he's kind of childish now. He's been trying to find what he's missing.”

Tsukishima didn't have a better understanding. In fact, he understood even less. Clearly Yaku didn't want to go too deeply into it.

From behind, they saw Tora before they heard him speak. “You sound like you could be his mother, Yaku-san.”

“Do you want to get hit?” Yaku snapped.

Tora backed away in defense, but suddenly stopped. “Oh!” His sudden outburst made both Tsukishima and Yaku jump. Tora ran in front of the poker table. He did all of this because he'd just remembered something important and had to address the entire gang. “Hey, you morons!”

“What did you all do now?” Kenma thought aloud.

“Oi, Tora! Don't take my job!” Kuroo exclaimed.

Tora ignored the both of them. “Morons” was just his way of addressing them and all Kuroo's job consisted of was giving motivational speeches and getting into more fights than the rest.

“I hope you all didn't forget about the meeting tonight."

The word "meeting" seemed as foreign to them as the word “peace.” None of them, not even their boss or the vice (Yaku) knew.

“You know something is wrong with us if Tora-san remembers something we don't,” Lev remarked.

“We're the ones who suggested it! Karasuno and Fukurodani are supposed to be coming here tonight.”

“If I remember correctly, I told both of them to fuck off,” Kuroo said.

“Then something is wrong with your brain, Banchou.”

Kuroo's mouth fell agape, as if no one has ever said that to him before. As he began sulking, Yaku announced, “Then why don't we clean this place up for now, until they arrive?”

They collectively groaned, even Tsukishima (internally), and Yaku's seemingly pleasant expression immediately changed. He was ten times more intimidating than a second ago. “Do it. Now.” All complaints ceased before they even began. Tsukishima realized, contrary to his first day with them, that Yaku sometimes had more of a hold on these guys than Kuroo.

So they spent the next few hours cleaning and getting more chairs (which they stole from a restaurant).

The first ones to show up were Karasuno. It wasn't all of the members, just Daichi, a silver-haired boy with a mole and a girl with long dark hair and a mole as well. The three of them had black jackets and black rings in the shape of a crow.

None of them had weapons except for the silver-haired boy. He had numb chucks by his waist.

Daichi whistled as he waltzed around the area. “Am I seeing this place clean for once? Or am I dreaming, Kuro?”

“You're dreaming. I hope you never wake up,” Kuroo retorted.

“Kiyoko-san!” exclaimed Tora and Inuoka. They rushed over to her. “It's great to see you again!”

Shimizu Kiyoko waved her hands in embarrassment, though these two did this every time they saw her. “Hey guys,” she said. Her voice was soft and silky like velvet. She was the first woman, aside from his mother, Tsukishima believed was beautiful.

“Daichi, did you check to see if anyone was following us?” the silver-haired boy asked. The two of them seemed close.

“Don’t worry, Suga. I left Asahi with the rest so that they won't come here,” Daichi answered. “I know they were curious.”

Just then, the entrance opened again. Tsukishima hadn't seen the three who entered before. The tallest one, close to Kuroo's height, had styled silver-grey hair and questionable golden eyes. The one next to him had messy dark hair and misty eyes. He seemed indifferent to everything that was happening. The third boy was much shorter than the other two, though it felt like he was older; he had coffee brown hair shaved at the sides and thick eyebrows.

The boy with golden eyes shouted, “Bokuto Koutarou and his gang have arrived!”

* * *

The topics of the discussion were about Nohebi and getting back stolen territory. Tsukishima understood about seventy percent of it. During the other thirty percent, he spaced out and his eyes drifted towards Kuroo. Maybe it was that he was the only person he knew semi-well, or that his appearance was just nice to look at. He couldn't tell; the reasons seemed to blend.

And since he was distracted, he didn't notice the point when things started to get out of hand. Suddenly he saw Haruki, the short boy from Fukurodani, flying across the table. He jumped right back up as if nothing happened and shouted, “Yaku! You're asking for it, aren't you?”

Yaku emerged from the onlookers and cracked his knuckles. The others, aside from Lev and Kuroo, looked at him in surprise. It must have been unusual to see Yaku motivated to fight anyone other than Lev.

“The two of them always duke it out,” Kai explained to Tsukishima.

“Because they're both short?”

“Basically.”

This eventually triggered other small-scaled fights between them. Kuroo exchanged blows with Bokuto; Inuoka and Tora attempted to land a hit on Daichi. He swiftly dodged both of them.

“Why...?” Tsukishima thought aloud.

“They just like testing their skills," Kai explained. “It's nothing serious.”

He watched them as they beat each other, as they exchanged fists and blood and reckless smiles. He saw Kuroo, who had the expression of a child. It was the happiest he'd seen him yet.

Suddenly, with the speed of lightning, he saw a large, dark shadow in front of his face, and in that instant it collided with him. He fell.

The only voice he heard was Kuroo's. “Tsukki!” he heard. “Koutarou, if you hurt him...”

* * *

Tsukishima opened his eyes to noise. He knew he was in the bedroom down the hall, but he couldn't tell how many voices were arguing outside. He sat up and realized Kuroo was sleeping beside him. Quietly, he left the room to check it out.

As soon as he came across the Nekoma gang shouting over Chinese poker (which was normal), he went back inside to sleep.

Only as he lay back down did he realize how much pain he was in. His nose felt fractured and it was difficult to breathe. He was bandaged.

He subconsciously faced Kuroo as he made himself comfortable in the sheets. He felt a sudden wave of déja vu, feeling that he'd done this before. He stared at his face in the least suspicious way possible.

He couldn't smile or laugh. All he could do was frown. At least it expressed he felt _something_. “You...” he began.

“I what?” Kuroo continued with a smile. He opened his eyes, and in that instant, Tsukishima was scared. He thought the gangster had figured him out: that he suddenly couldn't stop thinking about the confession and that he remembered the past.

“Nothing,” he replied quickly, since he didn't actually know what he was trying to say. He used to never say anything at all.

It was almost time for _Detective Zero_ when they played rock paper scissors. This time, it was Tsukishima and Kuroo who were chosen to buy the food. The two walked to the store in silence, with the half-moon looming over their heads.

“Forgive him,” said Kuroo suddenly. “Koutarou, I mean. He's a crazy guy.”

“It's alright,” Tsukishima responded. “He didn't kill me.”

“True.” He scratched his hair. “Before, I saw you talking to Yaku. What was that about?”

“Oh. Well, in a way, about you.”

The expression on Kuroo's face went through different stages. First he seemed elated, then embarrassed, then finally, terrified. “He didn’t say anything stupid, did he? Did he tell you about the birthmark?!”

“Birthmark? What are you talking about? He only explained why you're the way you are.”

“Oh, it was just that? Never mind, then.” Tsukishima tried to seem disinterested in his birthmark. He continued, looking up at the sky, “For Yaku…the gang is his family. He’s usually level-headed and watches over us. But whenever he acts like his age, I feel better. His wealthy parents were never able to act like parents themselves, after all. Sometimes I don’t know which one of us is the more mature one.” As he spoke, it was as if he left a piece of his heart in Tsukishima’s hands. As small as it was, it was heavy.

Through his glasses he saw the sky in Kuroo’s eyes; the luminescence of the moon and the darkness of the night. That light could have also been the light of a flame.

* * *

Bokuto Koutarou never sent _letters._ To him, they were as foreign as actual foreigners. He didn't even like the prospect of sending a letter. Everyone in the gang knew this. So when a letter from him addressed to Kuroo arrived in his mailbox, they were more than suspicious.

“Koutarou, did you send me mail? You?” he asked his friend through the phone.

_“Yeah, I had Akaashi help me. He knows some strangely useful things.”_

“No, actually, that's supposed to be common knowledge.”

_“Anyway, it shows that I'm serious. Did you read the contents?”_

Silently, he opened the envelope and revealed two tickets. He recognized them as concert tickets. “It's my apology gift for hurting your boyfriend.”

“He's not—it's not like that.”

 _“Really? Hmm,”_ Bokuto said. Kuroo could imagine the sly grin on his face.

“Asshole. I know what you're trying to do.”

_“Do you not want it to work?”_

“I never said that.”

_“Alright, then. Shut up and take the present. Love ya.”_

Kuroo sighed. He hung up the phone and pulled Tsukishima out of his hiding place in the corner. “Koutarou gave me tickets for a ONE OK ROCK concert,” he said, “Wanna go?”

There was a faint flicker of light in his eyes, behind his glasses. Kuroo knew what that meant. He'd done it before, when they were children and searched for beetles. He remembered the look on his face when he came across a female stag beetle. His overall expression had hardly changed at all, but the secret to learning Tsukishima Kei was in his eyes.

“I guess,” he answered simply.

Of course, at this time, Kuroo wasn't overthinking the event at all. It wasn't until Kenma jokingly called it a date that he began to get ideas. The only reason he took Kenma's words seriously was because he thought every word that came from his mouth was said seriously. Kenma wasn't fond of jokes, after all (in reality, it was just Kuroo's jokes he didn’t like—the only person who did was Bokuto).

Tsukishima also wasn't a fan of jokes, but that's what he thought this was. Who would wear a black suit and red tie to a rock concert if they weren't trying to be funny?

Kuroo.

“You look like you're going on a date,” Tsukishima told him. His silence meant that he was right. “With me?”

He nodded. “I know it's not a date, though. Kenma just put ideas in my head.”

Tsukishima couldn't tell him that he thought the suit actually worked for him. It outlined the sharp edges of his body, showing how fit he was. More than anything, the feeling he was getting from all this made him uncomfortable.

As they checked in their tickets and walked into the seating area, they realized that Bokuto even got them seats closer to the stage. They questioned the legitimacy in how he was able to do this, especially since he only worked at a restaurant, but neither of them felt the need to ask.

Although the floods of people overwhelmed Tsukishima, one look at Kuroo’s outfit made him feel better. He even felt that it was all worth it as soon as the band members arrived on stage. For mental and physical support (from the thrill of the event), he subconsciously grabbed onto Kuroo’s arm, pleasing the latter.

As Kuroo was hoping Tsukishima could be like this every day, he didn’t notice the two people behind them who definitely noticed him. “Lev, we have to go! Right now!” Yaku whispered to the giant standing next to him.

“No way. I want to see them live. I don’t care if Banchou sees us,” Lev whispered back.

“We should have gotten the tickets for tomorrow! I had my worries when he got the tickets, but who would have thought our seats were so close?”

Yaku had been frowning, so Lev leaned over and pinched the wrinkles between his eyebrows. “Just enjoy yourself for once, Yaku-san.”

Sometimes, Yaku was weak to Lev’s eyes. It was the way they were always so wide and green and close to his own, despite their gaping height difference. He stopped and looked up at him. He hated to admit it, but Lev was right. He also hated that he had to look up at him every time he wanted to talk, and a part of him felt that it was his fault. However, whenever he’d bring this up, Lev would grab him by the shoulders and say, “It’s okay. I love how short you are. I love it.”

“Lev!” he shouted, just as the opening song began.

“What?”

“Thank you!”

Lev couldn’t hear his words, but he could read his lips. “It’s nothing,” he said.

Afterwards, Tsukishima couldn't hear a thing. Both of his ears stopped working towards the end, most likely due to the lead singer, Taka's screaming, in addition to Kuroo's screaming.

For a moment during the beginning, he thought he'd heard Yaku's voice, but didn't bother to check it out.

“That was amazing,” Kuroo said. He seemed to still have his voice intact, though it was hoarse.

“It was,” Tsukishima agreed.

“I wish I could do it all over again.”

That, he couldn't agree with. He thought he'd be fine since he always listened to music through headphones, but the ringing in his ears proved otherwise. They stopped by a convenience store and bought two large bottles of water. Kuroo drank his in less than three minutes. He eyed Tsukishima. “If you're not going to drink it—”

“Calm down...not everyone has an unlimited energy supply like you. I'm not in a rush.”

Kuroo pointed to his temple. "It's the blood. I keep it pumping all the time.”

“Ken-san told me about your blood and oxygen speeches. He thinks they're annoying.”

“Seriously? They'll appreciate it one day, you'll see. And what's with the 'Ken-san'?”

“Jealous?” Tsukishima teased.

“A bit.”

It fell silent and stayed that way until they reached their houses. Kuroo crossed the street. He turned around to look back at Tsukishima, who was also turned. “Good night!” he shouted. His voice echoed throughout the silent night. He turned back around and ran inside.

“Night,” he quietly said to the spot Kuroo was just standing in.

Tsukishima went straight to his room after finding his mother asleep in her room. He searched for spare night clothes since he'd yet to do laundry. He ended up finding something deep within one of his drawers: an old, dirty leather biker glove. He turned it over in his hands to figure out why he had it and why he only had the right-hand glove.

It came to him like lightning. Kuroo had given him this glove years ago.

_“Here. You take the right and I take the left. So that we'll never forget…”_


	5. Moonflower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays! The song for this chapter is "Amy" by The Oral Cigarettes.

As soon as he realized there was much more to his past with Kuroo than he thought, Tsukishima called him and asked him if he could go over to his house. Kuroo was ecstatic of course, but he didn't know that Tsukishima had an ulterior motive. When Kuroo went to get them drinks, he was alone in his room, so this was the optimal time to look for it. To look for the other glove.

His room held the very essence of a teenager. He had band posters on his walls and a volleyball on the floor in the corner. Even though he lived right above a bookstore, he still had a bookshelf full of novels and essays. On his desk were ten of the same exact red pen, all lined up horizontally.

Tsukishima thought that was strange, but not as strange as the Matryoshka doll or the three pairs of sunglasses. Less strange was his number of albums and CDs, the Koushien ticket on his dresser and the general amount of black he owned.

He even found an Adult Video underneath his bed (a horrible hiding spot for that sort of thing), and he wasn't surprised to see that it was a gay Adult Video.

“He's making me borrow it! It's not mine! It's that bastard Koutarou's!” he exclaimed defensively, upon coming inside with the drinks.

The urgency in Kuroo's voice amused Tsukishima. He smiled smugly, the side of his coming out that he'd tended to hide. “Are you sure, Kuroo-san? You suure?” he taunted. “I'm alright with it, you know. You're a growing boy.”

"I'm sure it's not mine! How did you even find that, anyway? I hid it so well!"

“If people sit on the floor, how could they not see it under the bed? I thought you’d do better than that.”

“Well, no one really comes here, so...I mean, we all hang out at our base.”

“I see.” He paused and looked at the video cover. It had roses all around and a tall, large man was embracing a shorter man. He didn't necessarily feel uncomfortable, but he wasn't exactly comfortable either. Mockingly, he said, “Is it any good?”

Kuroo shouted, and snatched it from Tsukishima's hands. He threw it in his closet. It wasn't until they sat back down for the drinks that Tsukishima realized he hadn't even found what he was looking for.

Well, actually, he found it on Kuroo's left hand. He hadn't seen it on his hand before, so he must have just started wearing it. When they were young, they didn't wear them because they couldn't fit their small hands.

What made Kuroo start wearing it now?

When Tsukishima returned home that day, after an afternoon of talking about music and looking at records (to which at one point the discussion became very heated), he had planned to give his mother an earful. He'd planned to ask her why she kept knowing Kuroo a secret from him, but she was sitting at the dinner table as if she already knew what he was going to say.

“When I went to get the laundry from your room, I saw the glove,” she said. “I'm sorry.”

“So you remembered him already. Why didn't you tell me?”

She looked at him earnestly. “Before, you were so withdrawn when he left that one summer. I thought I would reopen old wounds if I brought him up again, but I didn't think you forgot.” She laughed. “You get that poor memory from your father.”

In an instant, Tsukishima flared. He was never one to get truly angry, but anything about his father was a trigger. “Why would you compare me to him?” he snapped.

His mother frowned with a certain authority. “Kei, you know what I meant. It's time to move on, sweetie.”

Those weren't the words he wanted to hear.

* * *

One night, Kuroo called Tsukishima and told him to come to the bookstore. He was standing by his motorcycle right outside. The rest of the gang was with him, standing by their own motorcycles. At that moment, when they all shone underneath the sky’s afterglow, Tsukishima’s eyes saw a real gang.

“Wanna go for a ride?” Kuroo asked.

As soon as he said that, the moment passed, and the boys went back to being regular boys. Lev complained, “It’s not fair that only the newbie gets to ride on the back of your motorcycle!”

“Stop whining,” Yaku said to him. “I bet Kuro has his reasons.”

Tsukishima wouldn’t admit it then, but he quite enjoyed riding on the back of Kuroo's motorcycle. And since he was the only one who could, he felt a great deal of pride in it.

Everyone began riding, one after another, consuming the vacant night streets. They shouted and hooted and Tsukishima thought that if he were on the receiving end of the noise, he would be annoyed. But he couldn't say anything now, since he saw their exhilarated faces and was riding right there with them. And there was something to holding onto Kuroo's waist that made him see all of this. That made him smell the strawberry scent of his hair and feel the beating of his heart. That beating was so similar to his own.

That night, they were like a pack of wolves that cried to the moon.

He didn't know that they were heading somewhere. They stopped their motorcycles when they reached a lake under a bridge. They stood on one side, glaring at the group on the other side. Tsukishima knew they were the Nohebi gang as soon as he spotted a snake tattoo on one of the members.

He nudged Kuroo and whispered, “What's going on?”

“We're going to try to talk to them first. If that doesn't work...”

“You use your fists.”

As if it would reassure him, Kuroo flashed him a smile. “Don't worry. You don't have to do anything. I know you don't like this sort of thing.”

It didn't. “I'm not worried,” he lied, because truthfully he was worried—not for himself but for Kuroo.

“Glad to see you made it!” Kuroo said to one of the guys on the other side.

“Wouldn't miss it for the world!” The Nohebi leader said. He had the appearance of someone scheming: narrow eyes and excessively neat hair.

“You know what this is about, right, Daishou?”

“Of course. We stole your turf.”

“If you know, then why did you do it?”

“Why not?”

Tsukishima noticed the change in Kuroo's expression. It went from his friendly facade to genuine irritation. “You really didn't just ask that, right?”

“I did,” Daishou Suguru said pompously, “so what are you going to do about it?”

“You're asking for a fight,” he said.

“Maybe I am,” he replied.

“That's it.” Kuroo took his jacket off and rolled up his sleeves. Tsukishima, who was now suddenly holding his jacket, wanted to stop him. The only reason he didn't is because he knew Kuroo would still go.

He ran into the lake and Daishou followed. They immediately landed blows. One fist after the other, one crack after another. Kuroo fell back and fell in the water, and Tsukishima stepped forward. Seconds later, he got back up and he already looked as if he'd been fighting for hours. There was blood dripping from his mouth.

Daishou was strong. Nekoma knew that. Kuroo knew that. However, none of that stopped him. He sent a right hook to Daishou's stomach and an unrelenting left hook to his jaw. He fell in the water. For a moment, it was silent, and Tsukishima thought Kuroo won.

As soon as that moment passed, Daishou sprang up from the water and kicked Kuroo's face down. Like this, it went on until the color of the water beneath them started to fill with red.

Tsukishima turned to Yaku. “We have to stop them.”

Yaku looked at him, cross-eyed. “Why? It's not like he's going to lose. It's always a tie between them.”

“But right now, it's not going anywhere.”

Kenma interjected, “He's right, Yaku-san. If this continues, we’re going to end up having to haul that guy back ourselves. And that guy weighs a ton.”

Yaku scoffed. “I don’t like fighting with these guys, because they always do something unexpected. Last time, they set of a smoke bomb. How do they even have the means to make that?”

“Either way, it looks like we’re going to fight them. Look,” Lev added, gesturing to the other side. The boys from Nohebi were collectively walking to the water.

“Ah, dammit. Here goes nothing,” Yaku mumbled to himself before rushing to Kuroo’s side. The others, except for Kenma, followed. Tsukishima watched them, separate bodies of one fighting spirit, and for the first time, he was fine with being one of them. He wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.

However, as soon as the shot went off, all his thoughts ceased.

* * *

“Tsukki. Tsukki!”

He opened his eyes abruptly to Kuroo’s voice; the latter was standing in front of him a little too close in proximity. He himself was standing in the doorway to Kuroo’s bookstore, spaced out since he was thinking of the event from a few nights ago. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, especially since he saw Kuroo almost every day, reminding him of Kenma getting shot by a gun, and in turn preventing him from sleeping at night. He couldn’t forget the sight. The gun, the proud smile on the Nohebi member's face, the wound, the blood thereafter. He realized, as he hadn't before, that he was a part of a gang now and things like this were going to happen.

Kuroo seemed to realize this, as he said, "Kenma is going to be fine. I've been with him my whole life. He's a shut-in, but durable. Didn't you see him at the hospital?"

He did. He heard Kenma tell him about how he and Kuroo were childhood friends, and that he'd fallen a lot when they were together. He was sturdy and wouldn't die from a bullet. But for Tsukishima, the mental image of Kenma’s bleeding body couldn't leave his mind. It was burned to his brain.

“I don't like it,” he told Kuroo, “I don't like what you do.”

“But it _is_ what I do.”

“Do you shoot people?”

“No...”

“Don't lie.”

“Okay, I did. Once.”

He sighed. What was he doing, fraternizing with a gangster? Was he so taken aback by the confession that he didn't think about anything else? Probably so.

To make his mood better after what happened, (though Tsukishima's mood was always at a constant 3 out of 10, Yamaguchi could attest to this) Kuroo decided to surprise him on his birthday.

 _“Whatever you're doing or thinking of doing, let me just tell you that I hate surprises,”_ he said over the phone.

“You're not going to hate this one. We're going to go somewhere.”

_“Go? Where?”_

“Telling you defeats the purpose of a surprise.” Kuroo hung up the phone before Tsukishima could get anything more out of him.

He'd planned for them to go to a planetarium, since he knew Tsukishima had a fondness for space. When they were younger, he would always say he wanted to become the first man to land on Mars. Now, though, he would probably deny ever saying that, out of embarrassment. But Kuroo didn't plan on telling him that he remembered the past. He was almost positive Tsukishima didn't remember, anyway.

Despite his plan, when Tsukishima called him the day of and said, with a nasally voice: _“I can't go.”_

“What? why?”

_“Can't you tell? I have a cold.”_

“Why?”

_“How should I know? It's that time of year.”_

“Alright. I'll be there in ten.”

Ten minutes later, Kuroo was at Tsukishima's doorstep. His mother let him in.

He lost his smart comments—and his breath overall—upon seeing Kuroo walk into his room. He wore the same suit he wore on their concert date. His hair was neater than usual (though Tsukishima preferred it messy) and in his hands was a bouquet of moonflowers.

“For the guy who's like the moon,” he said. “Happy birthday. By the way, these only bloom at night.”

“Why are you doing this?” Tsukishima said, contrary to the “thank you” he would have said.

“You already know why.” Kuroo smiled. “I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it.”

“I'd rather you not. But, regardless, thanks...” This was the best he could do. He was horrible with sincere words.

“Now I know flowers aren't the manliest of gifts, but it was second best to what I'd had planned. Or maybe _Harry Potter_ merchandise would've been better...”

“What did you have planned?”

“A planetarium.” Tsukishima was quiet. Kuroo saw his eyes and took this as him wanting to go, so he added, “We'll go when you get better.” As he walked closer to Tsukishima on his bed, he recognized the shirt he was wearing. It was a shirt they'd both bought after the concert: a black shirt with the red letters of ONE OK ROCK on the front.

Kuroo then looked down at himself and realized he was wearing the same shirt underneath his suit.

He wanted to touch Tsukishima’s face and run his fingers through his hair then, but he knew that he shouldn't.

After setting up the flowers in a vase, Kuroo headed to the door. “I'm going to head home,” he said, “You can't rest properly with me here.”

“What are you doing?” Tsukishima abruptly demanded.

“I'm leaving...”

“Don't. Just stay.”

Kuroo felt it was likely that the cold was making him either delirious or a little more honest, but took up the chance anyway. “Okay. I'll stay.” He sat on the floor and leaned his back against the bed. In that moment, it would have taken a miracle to get him to stop smiling.

That night, when Tsukishima finally let Kuroo leave, his window was open and the light from the moon shone in. He watched the moonflowers bloom, and lost his breath again.

* * *

A few nights later, Tsukishima learned something about Kuroo that not many people knew. He hadn’t known about the scar eight years ago because Kuroo didn’t have it then. He first saw it when he was watching over the bookstore for Kuroo since his father was out. It was evening when he finally returned, and when he did, Tsukishima knew he’d just been in a fight.

“What happ...?” He didn’t say anything further because it was obvious that Kuroo wasn’t going to answer him. His eyes were swollen, his clothes dirty, and his chin was lined with dried blood. He looked like what he did after the fight with Daishou.

Tsukishima went to the bathroom to get ointment and Band-Aids. Now that he knew how, he started fixing him up, slowly and silently. That was the way he did everything in his life. But recently, it’s been chaos after chaos. Normally, he would try to do everything in his power to get away from it. But, more than he’d like to admit, he couldn’t leave Kuroo’s side.

It’d become habit, after all. Habit was always frightening.

“I went...to get revenge...for Kenma,” Kuroo finally mumbled. Suddenly, as Tsukishima was rubbing ointment on his left eye, he brushed aside his bangs. Beneath his dark bangs was a patch of torn skin, lighter than the rest. It covered his right eye. Most likely a reflex, Kuroo grabbed Tsukishima’s arm and stopped him from touching it.

It was probably because he saw himself in that moment, but for the first time, he almost wanted to embrace a boy.


	6. Tightrope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a lot of conversation and characters talking about feelings, especially Kuroo. It leads him to make a mistake (but don't we all?).  
> The song is "Tightrope" by AKG. Enjoy.

It reminded Tsukishima of the time when he once looked a lot like Kuroo did now, and Akiteru had taken the role of patching him up. At that time, his older brother had hugged him tightly and said, “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

Those were the exact words Kuroo said now, but Tsukishima somehow struggled to believe him. Instead, he wanted to know about the scar, but once he started to ask the question, Kuroo stopped him. “Don’t,” he said. _Don’t ask._

Even though he didn’t want to talk about it then, the ever-existing memory of his home being eaten by bright orange flames was fresh in his mind. He was just a young boy then, around fourteen years old. He remembered the cigarette and his grandmother and the fight that started it all.

Tsukishima snapped him out of his circling thoughts. “I’m done.” Even with the shortest of sentences, Kuroo always enjoyed listening to whatever Tsukishima had to say. Just the sound of his voice pushed away everything else that annoyed him, even if for a short while.

It was like this when they were younger. Kuroo never showed anyone his vulnerable side; he was the reckless and assertive one who acted like he knew everything and was afraid of nothing. Tsukishima was the seemingly calm one who was provoked easily and never tried too hard at anything, except for memorizing names and types of dinosaurs.

The somewhat arrogant side of Kuroo irritated Tsukishima to no extent, but eight years ago when innocence was still visible, he admired it. Now, the boy with the rooster head was a little bit more transparent, if only in front of him.  Why else would he call him in the middle of the night about burning a house down if he didn’t want comfort?

Tsukishima remembered the crazy boy who was visiting from Tokyo with his grandmother. He remembered his love for cats and his lack of concern for getting himself hurt. _Some things never change_ , he thought.

Kuroo looked up at him and paused in an attempt to read his mind, and realized just how stupid he was. It wasn’t a big deal at all that they’d met before, so why was he staying silent about it, even when he knew ever since that day on the roof? He, although he tried to seem otherwise, was afraid Tsukishima didn't remember.

* * *

Kuroo's distraction was obvious. He wasn't focused during meetings, he put his shoes on the wrong feet and wore his jacket backwards. The reason, however, wasn't as obvious.

They were walking to the store to buy clothes since Kuroo's father was appalled at the way he dressed. He was acting stranger than usual because Tsukishima had been eyeing him carefully, but that only made it worse. His intense stare only made Kuroo uneasy. “What're ya looking at me for?”

“No reason.”

“Oh. That so?” Suddenly, as he hadn't been looking forward, Kuroo walked straight into a street lamp. He fell quickly, but it took Tsukishima a few seconds to realize that he was on the floor in pain.

“What are you doing, Kuroo-san?”

“I don't know! This pole is in the wrong place.”

“I think _you're_ in the wrong place.”

Even when they were in the clothing store, it continued. Kuroo would walk into things and try on regurgitate-worthy shirts.

It wasn't cute to Tsukishima. In fact, it annoyed him. “If you're going to be like this all day, I'm leaving.”

Kuroo took his arm and opened his mouth to say something. However, the words couldn't come out.

Tsukishima sighed and turned around. “I'll stay, but I have to choose your clothes.”

Every time Kuroo laid eyes on Tsukishima his mind went back to the moment they had in the bookstore. He couldn't forget the feel of his hands on his face, rubbing the ointment and applying the bandages. He instantly felt lighter.

He’d been acting strangely because he realized he was probably in love.

* * *

“So? That's it?”

Kuroo was confused. He knew Kenma was still recovering from the wound, but he thought his friend would have more of a reaction. That’s why he went to discuss his predicament with him in person. “You don't sound surprised.”

Kenma's expression was indifferent as usual, even after getting shot in the leg, but his actions spoke louder. He'd stood by Kuroo since they could walk, and the latter was surprised Kenma wasn't fed up with him yet.

“I don't sound surprised because I'm not. If anything's surprised me it's that you actually told him how you feel,” he explained.

“Why?”

“Because you know it won't end well.”

This was something Kuroo sometimes appreciated about Kenma, but now was not one of those times. “I don't know that, actually.”

Kenma sighed. Once Kuroo's mind was made, there was no changing it.

Next, he went to Yaku, in hopes for advice and not a depressing premonition. He left out that it was Tsukishima who made him feel this way, because he wasn't sure how the gang felt about him just yet.

“So who's the unfortunate bastard you fell in love with?” Yaku asked him.

“You didn't have to say it like that...And I'm not even telling you.”

“I know. But I just felt like it.”

Since Yaku wasn't giving him actual advice, he moved on. He went to the person who had a boyfriend himself.

“You must be desperate,” Daichi said. “To visit me.”

“Well, yeah. You have a boyfriend, after all.”

“So it's about a boy? Who? Don't tell me it's that glasses kid.”

“Then I won't tell you.”

Daichi smacked his face. “Seriously? With a younger boy?”

“Well, nothing's happened yet.”

“Okay, well, just try not to move in on him too quickly. Don't get carried away. You'll ruin it before it even starts.”

No one he spoke to was giving him good news. “How was it for you?”

“With Suga? It wasn't easy. We've been friends since high school, so that helped. Though going from best friends to lovers was awkward at first.”

Kuroo sighed. He couldn't do anything about his feelings. He would heed Daichi's advice, but he would soon also make a very big mistake.

* * *

The gang knew Kuroo's birthday was today. They only pretended not to know, for the sake of the surprise.

“Oi! Does nobody know?!” he exclaimed, slamming his hands on the poker table.

“What are you talking about, Kuroo-san?” Lev asked him.

“My...my...”

“Your mother's birthday?” At this point, Lev was teasing him.

Kuroo ran to Tsukishima. “It's your birthday, right? The big nineteen.” he said, in order to save Kuroo's heart. “Next year it's actually  _legal_ for you to drink.”

“ _Someone_ knows!” Immediately, he hugged him, as if it wasn't the first time and he'd done it a million times before. Kuroo's arms held Tsukishima tightly, and a first it seemed playful, between them it quickly became somewhat intimate. Not knowing what else to do, Tsukishima returned the embrace. Kuroo suddenly seemed to be taking it more seriously than he did, much to his dismay.

When seconds passed and Kuroo wasn't letting go, Tsukishima tried to pry himself apart.

“You're crushing my glasses,” he said.

Immediately Kuroo released him and replied, “Gotta keep your glasses safe.”

He couldn't help but ask, “Kuroo-san, do you like me or my glasses?”

They both paused, and before Kuroo could answer, Tsukishima put his headphones on as if to say, “Forget I asked.” There was no talking to him now.

Later on, as the awkwardness subsided, he told Kuroo that they should go to the rooftop because there was going to be a meteor shower. “I don't know if it counts as a present, but it'll be nice to look at,” he said.

So the gang waited outside, on the roof of their base and shivering, because it was colder than usual mid-November.

Meanwhile, they gave Kuroo their gifts. Kenma was still in the hospital, but he’d told Lev to buy him a muffler. Lev’s gift was an album. Yaku and Kai split the pay on a blazer. Tora and Inuoka got him cat food for the strays he liked to feed.

They waited for hours, but as it seemed like the shower wasn’t going to happen, the rest of the gang left the roof one by one. In the end, left out in the cold were Kuroo and Tsukishima, who was confused. “You’re not leaving?”

Kuroo replied, “Why? This is my present, right?”

“I guess.”

So they waited. When it hit midnight, Tsukishima wanted to give up (if he hadn’t already). Kuroo was even starting to fall asleep. He shook him awake. “Wha? Is it here?”

“It should be. Unless the people from National Geographic are liars.”

Kuroo snickered. “You’re funny, Tsukki.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, you are.”

“I’m not.”

“…Are.”

Tsukishima gave up.

Though Kuroo was irritating half of the time, it was because he would try to bring him out of his comfort zone. The other half of the time, he was either too busy fighting or reading. Tsukishima preferred this half, but now, he saw something different. He saw a boy who was looking up at the sky with bright eyes and was reminded of that day on the school roof. It was hard to believe this all happened just because he skipped class.

Even so, he wanted to say the words before he forgot completely. “…birthday.”

“What?” Kuroo didn’t hear.

“I said, ‘happy birthday.’ I don't want to say it again.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Kuroo hid his smile.

Although they waited, listening to music to pass the time, the meteor shower never came. Tsukishima never trusted National Geographic again.

 

Afterwards, Kuroo dragged Tsukishima home with him and they watched the three _Ip Man_ films on DVR. The movies airing on TV and dubbed in Japanese was a rare occurrence, after all. Kuroo started to drift into sleep in the middle of the third movie, but he made sure that Tsukishima was asleep first because he didn’t want to leave him hanging. When he woke up a few hours later, he was breathing heavily and beads of sweat rolled down his face. He had a dream about the fire; he often did, even though it's been five years since it happened.

He couldn't go back to sleep, so he grabbed his jacket and went to the convenience store to buy strawberry shortcake. It was Tsukishima's favorite, but that just meant he had to eat it sneakily without his noticing. From when they were younger, he knew that Tsukishima had a freakishly heightened sense of smell.

When he got back, unfortunately Tsukishima was awake. In his mind, it was as if Tsukishima had noticed he was gone, but in reality he just smelled the cake.

He didn't have to say anything for Kuroo to say, “We'll share.” He spilt the slice in half and made sure Tsukishima got the bigger strawberry.

When it fell silent, it was because Tsukishima was eyeing him. “Nightmare?” he asked.

“How did you know?”

“My glasses aren't just for show.”

“What, so they help you see through people, too?”

“In some cases.”

Kuroo felt better, and it wasn't because of the cake he'd bought for that purpose.

The cake was making him feel something different. He even questioned whether alcohol was in it. It was a rush he felt, slightly different from the kind he got while fighting. He felt his feelings were on a tightrope; destined to fall, but desperately trying to keep their balance. He hadn't realized what was happening until he felt the light touch of Tsukishima's lips—his tough yet warm lips on his own.

He was immediately pushed away. Tsukishima's redness reached his ears and he wiped his lips with his sleeve. “What are you thinking?”

Kuroo panicked. “I...I—”

“Actually, don't answer that. I never know, anyway.” Tsukishima got up, took his things (he didn't forget the cake) and left in a rush. Kuroo couldn't move to stop him. His arms and legs were frozen. Yet his lips were warm.

* * *

Tsukishima didn't go back to the gang. He'd hang out with Yamaguchi after school and then go straight home. In the third day of this, he found Kuroo standing outside his house.

Tsukishima tried to walk past him, but Kuroo said, “Wait. I'm here to break this off.”

He stopped. Somehow, he was angrier. “What are you talking about?”

“You should leave the gang. You don't have to be with me anymore. Clearly, you don't want to.”

Again, but louder, he said, “What are you talking about?”

“There's no point anymore. If you stay with me, you'll get hurt like Kenma. And...I hurt you, so...” Without letting Tsukishima speak (though he didn't want to say anything), he ran off. He ran so fast that he probably wouldn't have noticed if he ran into a police box. His feet dragged along the ground and he closed his eyes shut. Differently from the first time Tsukishima saw him run, he wasn't running to anything. He was running away.


	7. The Method to Madness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while! This one is on the darker end compared to the others, and reveals more about the characters. Also, Tsukki is honest with himself for once.

As dramatic as it all had been (or as he tried to make it seem), Kuroo soon realized that the gang felt a lot different than it did with Tsukishima in it. They all noticed their newest recruit was gone, but they didn’t ask Kuroo about it. Lev missed annoying their blonde friend, and although Tora was glad that he had a chance of winning at Chinese poker again, he noticed Kuroo's gloominess and tried to let him win the game instead.

At the hospital, Kenma didn't pull his punches towards Kuroo.

“So you did something stupid, after all. I tried to warn you.” Kenma side-eyed him as he got ready to be released. “You didn’t listen.”

“I did! I just got caught up in the moment…” Kuroo defended.

“So, the usual? Anyway, you have to bring him back.”

He frowned. “Why?”

“He plays _Legend of Zelda_. Who said you were the only one who wanted him here?” said Kenma, with an unusual seriousness.

“I see that now.”

“My point is, fix it. With him around, you’re not as loud.”

So he tried. However, he couldn’t think of anything good—of something that would make Tsukishima forgive him instantly. He was up against someone who didn’t like people in the first place. He’d already pulled out all the stops: the hoodie, the concert and the flowers. If he did anything grand again, Tsukishima wouldn’t believe his apology.

That’s when he stopped to look at Kuroo as he left his house to go to Yamaguchi’s. It was raining that day, and though his vision was obscured he could see dark hair and dark clothes sitting in front of his house. When he realized this was Kuroo, his first instinct was to ignore him, but his body didn’t listen. He stood there and wondered how long Kuroo had been sitting there, as if he didn’t care that it’d been raining the entire time.

Kuroo looked up at Tsukishima and didn’t say anything for a while. “I’m sorry,” he said, “and I didn’t know what else to do.”

He raised his umbrella and held it over Kuroo, as if to say, “Alright.” It was probably his way of accepting his apology without the troublesome need for words. He nodded his head back towards his house as if to say, “You can come inside.”

Kuroo looked down at himself. He needed to bathe.

While Tsukishima was preparing the bath for him, like most curious children, he looked around. He had his own weird things: darts and a dart board. Underneath his bed, he found a picture album, and inside he saw a few pictures of himself, and a few of him and them together. Of course, they had smaller heads and smaller minds. He saw a picture of himself holding a beetle with a child's smile. He remembered his grandmother taking these pictures, that she had developed them and given them to Tsukishima's mother.

“It's ready,” he said from behind. “A change of my clothes is there, too.” Kuroo rapidly closed the album and slid it back under the bed. He would ask him about it another time.

After his bath, he went back to Tsukishima's room and found him sleeping on his bed. His glasses were still on, so he took them off. His sleeping face was just as nice as his regular face.

“It really is better with you around,” he said.

He realized he'd fallen asleep himself when Tsukishima was shaking him awake. “Wake up,” he said with urgency.

“Hm? What is it? Is it food?”

“No, you have to hide under my bed.”

“Why?”

“My brother is here.”

“What does that have to do with me hiding?”

Tsukishima paused and his expression darkened. “He's a policeman.”

This didn't surprise Kuroo as much as it could have, because he'd met a blonde policeman before whom Tsukishima looked like. 

“Okay,” he said, as he went underneath the bed. Tsukishima was taken aback because Kuroo didn’t seem surprised or upset.

Just then, Akiteru cane inside. “Yo, little brother. How have you been?”

“Fine.”

“Why do I smell cologne? You don't use it, do you?”

“No...” He looked down at Kuroo under the bed and heard him curse to himself. “It was Yamaguchi,” he explained, “but he left earlier.”

Akiteru sat on the bed. The entire time he was there and talking, Tsukishima wasn't listening.

* * *

For a while, things went back to normal. Lev and Yaku were still suspicious, Kenma played his games, Kai stopped Kuroo and Tora from fighting, and Inuoka cursed people under his breath. It all only lasted until a certain group of owls came to visit. Tsukishima knew it was Bokuto from the voice and the hair. However, he seemed different; he wasn’t as exuberant and didn’t have his partner standing beside him.

Kuroo asked him, “Where’s Akaashi?”

Bokuto and the rest of his gang lowered their heads. There was a solemn atmosphere among them. “They took him,” he said. His tone was dark and gritty. “Those fucking snakes took Akaashi.”

“What? Why? How?”

“It was during a scuffle in Tokyo. I’d been protecting him lately because he had a cold, but during that fight, he just disappeared.”

“They knew you would come to us for help. They’re after us. It’s my fault,” Kuroo explained, “I raided their place last month.” He grabbed Bokuto’s shoulders. His face scrunched together as if he was going to cry, but everyone knew he wasn’t a crier. Kuroo looked at him with empathy. He couldn’t imagine what Bokuto was feeling. He didn’t know what he would do if this happened to Tsukishima. For a long time, he’d vouched for Bokuto’s relationship with Akaashi, though the two of them were always too stubborn to admit their feelings. He embraced his old friend and shouted to his gang, “Guys! You know what we have to do, right?”

“Of course,” they collectively replied.

Tsukishima’s eyes had been on Bokuto and Kuroo. Kai noticed this, and told him, “They’re close, right? They used to hook up and almost even dated…but they both figured they were better as friends.”

“So you all know about his sexuality?” he asked.

“Well, yeah. He’s our boss.”

Tsukishima realized that he was feeling somewhat irritated at what Kai just told him. He suddenly felt that the proximity he and Kuroo had shared before was gone, and now there was a distance that suffocated him. He wondered why he cared about such a thing in the first place, but came up with no answer.

Before he knew it, Kuroo was right in front of his face. “Don’t worry,” he said.

Tsukishima knew he missed a few things before he said this. “About what?”

“About this. I know you don’t like this sort of thing, so we won’t try to fight them. I promise.”

“You don’t have to do that for me. More like, could you guys come up with a plan?”

“Tsukki,” Kuroo smiled, “you know I’m smarter than you.”

Instantly, he felt irritated. His inner self came out: “Oh, is that so?” he said with a dark smile.

Kuroo didn’t back away. Instead, as if he knew how to work with Tsukishima’s personality, he said, “Besides, I don’t want to greet you covered in blood again.”

“You…why do you think you have to protect me? I don’t like it.”

Kuroo’s eyes widened; he didn’t expect Tsukishima to call him out on his feelings. “I just want to.”

“It’s selfish.”

He smiled. “I know.”

 

As Tsukishima had predicted, there wasn’t really a plan. It was more so that they were to find ways to fight them without hurting them and themselves. “It’s a lazy idea of a plan,” Bokuto retorted to Kuroo, who came up with the idea.

“Come up with something better, then. He’s _your_ man.”

“He’s not!”

Kuroo shrugged. “So he says.”

“Whatever, I’m just going to fight them. Sorry, Tsukki, but I have to give them a good black eye. Or maybe two?”

“Calm down, Koutarou. We’re already here.” Kuroo turned to the gang. “Let’s go, guys!”

As soon as they opened the doors to Nohebi’s hideout, there were six of their guys, including the leader, standing in front of a tied up Akaashi Keiji. Bokuto shouted his name. Tsukishima could see how much he cared for him.

“You wanted us, right?” Kuroo asked Daishou. “You didn’t have to go through the trouble of kidnapping my friend’s partner.”

“True,” he said, “but I missed all of you guys. And I see”—he pointed to Tsukishima—“that you have someone new.”

“None of your business.”

“If you say so.” With one snap of his fingers, more of his gang rushed in and ran to begin the fight. Kuroo was still determined to hold his promise to Tsukishima. However, this was the second time his promise didn’t hold.

“Stick to the damn plan!” Kuroo shouted.

“It’s not even a plan!” Yaku rebutted.

All of a sudden, everyone except for Tsukishima was fighting; while it was actually just them dodging Nohebi’s attacks and having them beat up each other. Since he wanted to be useful, though, while everyone was distracted he sneaked over to free Akaashi from the ropes he was tied with.

The only problem was that one of the members was watching over them, and when Tsukishima untied Akaashi, he immediately gave him a straight right to the face. Tsukishima staggered from the impact, but when he regained his balance, he returned the hit. It was his first time getting into an actual fight, so he tried to ignore Kuroo calling out his name as he kicked his opponent in the side.

Suddenly, though, the guy tripped him and he fell to the ground. This was the worst thing that could happen to him. He struggled to get back up. He felt his face getting bashed in, some ribs fractured, and blood rushing up to his throat. He could hardly breathe, but before going unconscious, he did an upward kick to his opponent’s face.

“Tsu…Tsukishima!” Kuroo shouted, and desperately plowed his way through the horde to get to him. He saw the blood on Kuroo’s fists and the trail of red running down from his forehead onto his lips. One of his eyes was closed shut. Tsukishima lifted his hand and wiped away the blood on Kuroo’s lips.

Although he didn’t think he cared, he said, “You broke your promise.” Since everything seemed to be settled when Daishou took his guys and escaped, he slowly stood up and walked over to Hermione. He took the First Aid kit from his bag and went back over to Kuroo, who was talking to Bokuto and Akaashi about having a party afterwards.

He didn’t understand what he was doing. It was as if his eyes only saw the battered, reckless, ever-grinning person on the ground.

For some reason, though, there was a certain heat that welled up inside of him as he tended to Kuroo’s wounds. That heat reached his chest and ears. This time, it wasn’t nervousness or embarrassment. It was anger.

Kuroo said to him, “I’m sorry…I must be mad. Let me fix you up after.”

“You _are_ mad,” he said. “You are insane.”

Kuroo frowned. “Are you upset, Tsukki?”

He was. But how was he supposed to express it? “Whatever. I’m going home.”

“You still look like hell. Let me—”

“Don’t,” Tsukishima stopped him, and nearly glared at him. “I’m fine.” The truth was, he wasn't fine. Not only did he have external injuries, but internal as well. It was willpower that was keeping him standing.

“No, you’re not!”

“I am, so leave me alone!”

It suddenly fell to a dangerous silence, one that would have escalated back into an argument if not for the gang’s intervention.

As if he’d been waiting to for the right moment, Tora stood between them. “Tsukishima, Banchou doesn’t have to keep you here. We don’t need you making him feel guilty and sad, like just recently when you didn’t show up. If you don’t like any of this, just leave. Don’t drag us down.” The gang knew that Tora was angry because he, while saying this, didn’t raise his voice at all.

“You don’t understand anything,” Tsukishima said to him. “None of you do.” When they were younger, Kuroo was this same way. His bravery was his selfless recklessness. He couldn’t keep a promise.

“I do,” Kenma said. “Tora, don’t blame Tsukishima. Kuro has been pretty stupid, too. He can’t figure out what he wants.” He turned to Tsukishima. “But, I think you’re just taking your frustration out on him because you were worried. You can't be the unsociable guy you are just because you don’t want a friend to get hurt. You should be honest about how you feel.”

Tsukishima knew he was right. Tora and Yaku ran to Kenma and hugged him. “This is why we love you, Kenma!” they exclaimed.

Kuroo lifted the First Aid kit and looked at Tsukishima in his eyes.That look was something else that made him feel hot.He said, “Go ahead. It actually hurts like hell.” When Kuroo flashed a smile, he realized that he wanted him to never lose it. Honesty (at least to himself) felt lighter than he thought it would.

Aside from the irritation in seeing Kuroo getting hurt, Tsukishima was upset for another reason. When he saw Kuroo in blood, his mind flashed back to his father. He’d tried to make himself forget, but his ears remembered the endless sounds from the kitchen. They were pounding sounds, crying sounds and shouting, all of which he’d put headphones on to block out. But those sounds had reached his soul.

He also remembered Akiteru, and how he would stay standing even with a broken molar and a twisted ankle. He would never let their father reach Tsukishima's room.

Now, he tried to stop brooding over it. It was over. “You know, Kuroo-san…” He tried to strike up a conversation as Kuroo tended to him. He had to distract himself from Kuroo’s smell and his eyes and the feel of his hands.

“What’s up?”

“I finally finished the _Bird Chronicle_ last night.”

“Finally! I can’t believe it took you this long. It was good, right?”

“It was, but it’s six-hundred pages. Are you seriously surprised it took me this long?”

“Quite.”

Just then, much to the gang’s surprise, there was the faintest lining of a smile on Tsukishima’s face. However, as expected, it disappeared instantly. Kuroo wished he had a camera.


	8. Blackout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two of my sons are introduced, and during a blackout, Yaku and Lev grow closer. The song for this chapter is "Blackout" by AKG.

They were serious about having a party, but they couldn’t have it yet because Kuroo, Tsukishima, Bokuto and Akaashi all ended up being hospitalized after the fight. Their injuries were worse than they felt. Kuroo and Bokuto stayed in the same room, as did Akaashi and Tsukishima.

“Why couldn’t I be with Tsukki?” Kuroo complained to Bokuto from the other side of the curtain that separated them. “I can’t recover being next to you.”

“That’s mean! Besides, I don’t think Tsukki can be alone with you right now.”

“Why?”

“ _Why?_ He just witnessed you getting hurt for his sake. He’s probably still upset. He thinks you’re an idiot for doing this for him.”

“Well, can’t argue with that…” Kuroo tried to turn over in the bed, but he immediately felt the pain in his stomach. “It hurts…I want to see him…”

In the next room, Tsukishima suddenly felt a chill run up his spine. He didn’t know why it happened, but he could guess. He turned to Akaashi. “Akaashi-san, are you alright? I know you were hurt worse than us,” he said to him.

“I’m fine. I just feel like an old man with chronic back and hip pain,” he replied.

Tsukishima was surprised he was able to joke in this situation, as if he couldn’t have been worse off if their gangs arrived too late.

Later, his mother, Akiteru and Yamaguchi paid him a visit. He couldn’t tell them all of the details, as he knew Yamaguchi and his mother would overreact. If his brother weren’t off duty, and he told them what happened, he would probably go after Kuroo right then and there, and Tsukishima wouldn’t be able to see him again.

While being hospitalized, he and Akaashi became friends, in one way or another. After this, they would often call the other to complain about Kuroo or Bokuto. It was informative for the both of them.

Something else happened while they were hospitalized. When Tsukishima headed for the restroom, he saw two boys arguing at the reception desk. One was much shorter than the other. The taller one had dark hair with bangs shaped as a “v.” The shorter one had orange hair that almost seemed to be going against gravity. He noticed that they both wore black rings with a crow shape.

Tsukishima couldn’t make out what they were arguing over, but he heard key words like “fine,” “bleeding,” and “stubborn.” He assumed that one of them was hurt and the other wanted him to go to the hospital, but he didn’t want to.

He decided to ignore them and use the bathroom, but before he could, the boy with the orange hair had run into him. He couldn’t react fast enough because he was still in pain. He and the boy together fell on the floor.

“Oi! Hinata! Why would you run in a hospital?”

“It’s because you’re scary, Kageyama.”

“Hey, get off me already,” Tsukishima said. Hinata was reluctant to move, because he was still afraid of Kageyama.

Kuroo, having heard the commotion outside, left his room. When he saw Hinata on top of Tsukishima, an air of animosity surrounded him. “Is that you, little guy?” he uttered deeply.

Hinata felt the danger, so he instantly sprung back up and hid behind Kageyama. “Kuroo-san, long time no see,” Kageyama said.

Kuroo helped Tsukishima up and fixed his hair and glasses. “Stop touching me so much,” he said.

Kuroo smiled, but it disappeared as soon as he turned to the Karasuno boys. “How has Sawamura been raising you two?”

“Raising” repeated in Tsukishima’s head, and he snickered.

“Perfectly fine! It’s just that _this one_ didn’t want to go to the hospital even though he got his hand cut by a knife. The wound is pretty deep, but for now I’ve wrapped it in my shirt,” Kageyama explained.

“Are you an idiot?! You need stitches!” Kuroo exclaimed.

“I hate them…” Hinata murmured.

“Then die of blood loss,” Tsukishima told him.

“Hey!” Kageyama snapped.

“Who were you fighting?” Kuroo asked him. “It’s not easy to get close to the little guy with a knife. He’s fast.”

“Just some neighborhood assholes. We caught them selling drugs, and Hinata…protected me.”

Finally, Hinata complied to get stitches, because when he saw the guilty and pained expression on Kageyama’s face, he couldn’t bear to keep him like that.

“They’re idiots,” Kuroo said with a smile, “but they’re not bad.”

As the two were back at the reception desk, Kageyama turned and looked straight at Tsukishima. “Oi, blondie! If you ever talk to Hinata like that again, I’m going to kill you!”

Kuroo was about to fire back at him, but he stopped when he saw Tsukishima smiling almost sadistically. “What kind of idiot says that in a _hospital_?” he said, loud enough so he could hear.

* * *

After a while longer, the four of them got released from the hospital. With no time to waste, the guys prepared for the party.

On the way to Nekoma’s base, they bought chips, Pocky (Bokuto’s idea), sushi (Kenma’s idea), cups and oolong tea (because Tsukishima forbade Kuroo from buying soda). “You’re not my mom,” Kuroo scoffed.

“Oh? Do you want me to call her? Because it sounds like you miss her,” Tsukishima said sarcastically. The _last_ thing he wanted to be to Kuroo was his mother.

“Go ahead, but she’s in New York probably taking up some big case.”

Tsukishima paused. “America?”

“Yeah…did you not know?”

“Nope.” Since they were talking about family, he remembered something that had been glossed over before. “About my brother…” he began.

“Yeah? Are you worried?”

“I just don’t need the trouble from him finding out about all this. And I thought you’d be upset.”

“Do you _want_ me to be upset?” Kuroo stopped walking with the rest and looked at Tsukishima. “Look, my feelings for you won’t change because your brother is my enemy. I doubt they’d change even if _you_ wanted to be a cop or something. Though I’d prefer that not be the case.”

Tsukishima felt the wrench in his chest again. He lowered his head. “Where did you learn it?”

“Huh? Learn what?”

“Where did you learn how to speak like that?”

Kuroo’s cluelessness increased as the conversation continued. “Like what?” he asked. Tsukishima gave up on trying to explain to him that his words were annoyingly charming. He noticed that Tsukishima was red in his ears, and figured it was due to the cold, but wanted to believe that he was the cause. He adjusted Tsukishima’s glasses and pushed aside his growing blonde hair. His smug smile resurfaced. “You’re pretty red, ya know.”

“It’s cold,” Tsukishima said as he slipped away from Kuroo’s hands and caught up with the gang.

 

The so-called “party” ended up being both Kuroo and Bokuto’s gangs crowding around Kenma’s laptop to watch _Detective Zero._ Due to the surplus of bodies and testosterone, Tsukishima could barely focus on the program. He even spent the entire hour with his head on Kuroo’s lap because Haruki and Yaku had trouble seeing it. He could tell Kuroo was on cloud nine. He regretted not joining Kenma at the poker table to eat sushi.

Akaashi had been sitting in front of him, so during the show he was also thinking about how calm he seemed to be after being kidnapped. The thought stuck to him until afterwards, when he decided to ask him about it.

“Why am I okay after all that? Well, honestly, I don’t know. If anything it’d be that Bokuto-san is a bright person,” he answered.

“Bright?” he repeated.

“I mean, it’s because of him. He likes to protect me, but when he can’t I know how upset he’ll get. And when he can, he smiles. It’s reassuring, to say the least.”

Tsukishima didn’t quite understand it, but he knew it was similar to how he was feeling earlier when Kuroo got hurt fighting for him. Although it made him upset, it was also somewhat comforting. “And another thing,” he continued, “…why do you fight?”

This was the sort of question he would ask Kuroo, but at the moment he was with Bokuto drinking the oolong tea in shot glasses and pretending it was alcohol. He also knew the response he’d get from him: “Why not?”

He didn’t know that Akaashi would respond the same way, especially with a smile. “Why not? It’s pretty exhilarating. Also, don’t you practice karate?”

“I did. For self-defense. Family reasons.”

“Well, it’s a test of skill and strength. That’s enough for me.” He motioned to everyone else going wild behind him. “And all of these guys.”

* * *

Sometimes the fact that Kuroo lived right across the street from Tsukishima was something the both of them forgot, so when they would remember it surprised them.

It was especially surprising a few mornings later when he saw Kuroo sitting on the sidewalk outside of his house. He was cleaning his motorcycle. Around him, the stray cats gathered.

“Tsukki!” Kuroo called out to him.

His legs took him over. “Do you need something?”

“I do, actually. You.”

Tsukishima should have expected this response, but it still affected him. “That's not funny, Kuroo-san.”

“No, it wasn't supposed to be. It's just true.” Kuroo patted the seat of his motorcycle. “Sit with me.” He did. “Do you want to know about my scar?”

“Well, yeah.” He wasn't so sure now that he was going to tell him.

“It happened in the fire that killed my grandmother.”

“Your grandmother?” Tsukishima remembered her. She was a woman who brimmed with kindness and chocolate candies.

“My parents got divorced before the fire. I went with my mother to America for a while, but she sent me to my father because I hadn't spent enough time with him. So I lived with my dad and his mom in Tokyo. But my grandmother fought with him a lot, because he gambled and smoked.”

Tsukishima realized he left out the summer they met in a forest in Miyagi.

“To make it up to her, he tried to make dinner. But he spilled some oil without realizing it, and when he dropped his cigarette, that was it. My grandmother didn't make it. Then, my old man and I moved here.”

“This is why you hate cigarettes?”

“I guess. They've always smelled disgusting, though.”

“Then, why do you fight?” Tsukishima was surprised he found himself asking him anyway.

He grinned, as usual. “Why not? It's a release.”

Something else he found himself doing was stroking the hair on Kuroo's head. He stopped himself and pulled his arm back, right before Kuroo was going to stop him from doing just that.

“What did I do to deserve that?”

“Nothing.” Now, he wanted the conversation to end.

“Hmm.” Kuroo wrapped his arm over Tsukishima's shoulder. “Maybe I should tell you more depressing stories, if that's what I get.”

“Please don't.” Tsukishima’s eyes drifted to his hands. He was still wearing the biker glove, and now it looked like it was a part of him. As he looked at it, he somehow wanted to hold that hand.

The thought made his heart tremble.

 

Later that day, after seeing the Fukurodani gang off, they went to the base. As usual, they were loud and boisterous and laughing up a storm. Tsukishima had gotten used to this sight.

Just as they’d begun to calm down, all of the lights shut off.

“Inuoka, I think your existence shut the lights off,” Kuroo deadpanned.

“Kuro, Inuoka isn’t even here. He’s sick. Remember?” Kai told him.

“Oh?” Kuroo clasped his hands together and looked up at the ceiling. “Sorry, Inu.”

“He’s not dead,” Tsukishima said.

“Then, could it be Ken-san? He always looks so dark, since he hardly ever smiles,” Lev suggested.

“Lev, it’s like you’re asking me to tell Yaku your secret…” Kenma said. At first it wouldn’t seem like a threat, but the darkness made it all the more terrifying for him.

“Huh? What secret?” Yaku and Tora asked in unison. Yaku sounded more irritated, while Tora sounded simply curious and nosy.

“I-it’s nothing…” Lev replied.

“Um, everyone?” Tsukishima said. They stopped and listened, since they couldn’t see. “You do realize this is probably just an electrical thing, right?”

There was silence, as if they truly hadn’t considered that, but then they started laughing. He knew this was just to make it seem like they did.

“Of course, Tsukki! We’re not stupid,” said Kuroo, on behalf of his gang.

Tsukishima sighed and walked around using his phone’s light to look for candles. They were stored in the bathroom and were scented. He lit them using Tora’s lighter (he used it as a bluff in fights, not for cigarettes). He could see everyone now, with a golden light from the flame washed over their faces.

“Should we play a game?”

“If it’s not poker, then no,” everyone answered.

“Eh? Why?”

“You don’t come up with good ideas,” Tsukishima explained. “And if you do, you ruin the game.”

“Since when have I done that?”

“Remember when we played the _Ou-sama_ game and you made Yaku-san and Ken-san almost kiss? Then you and Lev fought.”

“Right, but why was Lev so irritated, anyway?”

“Well…” Tsukishima had an idea that was more than likely to be true, but he didn’t feel the need to say anything if they didn’t.

Meanwhile, Lev had been tense and nervous for the past five minutes. He was afraid Yaku was going to get the truth out of him, and couldn’t bear to look him in the eye. Yaku took his hand and brought him to the bathroom to talk away from the others. “Lev,” he said. “Talk to me.”

“About what?”

“Don’t play dumb. What’s the secret? If it’s ‘nothing,’ then you can tell me.”

“…It’s about your Christmas present.”

Yaku laughed and roughly made a mess of Lev’s hair. He whispered, “It’s just that? Then, don’t tell me. Jeez, I thought it was going to be ‘I cheated on you’ or something!”

“Whaaat? Why would that happen? Are you crazy?”

“Yeah, I’m crazy! Ever since being with you, I…I feel like I’ve gone crazy too many times to count.”

“Why don’t you just say you love me, Yaku-san?” Lev teased.

“You know it already. I’m not saying something so embarrassing.”

Lev looked into Yaku’s eyes (or what he assumed were his eyes) and held out his hands to touch his face. “This _is_ your face, right?” he asked. “Tsukishima didn’t put any candles in here.”

“It’s my face,” Yaku answered nervously. He didn’t understand why he was uneasy; he and Lev have been together for months now—nearly a year. What was there to be nervous about? Besides, Lev was younger than him, and he was much more composed. As he reached out and felt his chest, though, he felt the beating of his heart.

He could sense Lev leaning over and could feel his breath. The touch of his lips on his own still came as a surprise to Yaku. Even so, he wanted it. He wanted more. He wrapped his arms over Lev’s neck and pulled him in closer. He wanted to feel Lev’s heartbeat and his skin, and he wanted to see the green color of his eyes.

“This damn blackout,” he muttered, his voice breathy and ragged, “I can’t see you at all.”

“It’s okay. You can still feel me. I’m still right here.”

Back where everyone else was, the gang noticed Yaku and Lev left. Kuroo was about to say something, but they returned in that moment.

“Kuroo-san, I’m going to sleep,” Tsukishima abruptly said, as he rested his head on Kuroo’s shoulder.

“W-what? Why…on me?” Kuroo was unusually nervous with these sorts of situations, but he would be fine with kissing him.

“Please don’t make a big deal out of it. You’re right there, and I don’t want to sleep on the floor. Tora-san is sleeping on the sofa.”

As Tsukishima drifted off, his mind returned to the kiss. It wasn’t his first kiss in general, since his mother had kissed him on the lips before to tease him. It was his first kiss with a boy. What surprised him wasn’t so much that kiss happened but the way it felt, albeit short, and the fact that he didn’t hate it. He pushed Kuroo away and left because it came out of nowhere. At the time, he was pretty sure he didn’t have feelings for Kuroo. When he started thinking, though, he realized the feelings were blatantly there. He just didn’t understand them.

He wondered why he didn’t hate the kiss, and thought that it might have been _because_  it was Kuroo and he was a boy. He never thought he would ever think or feel such a thing, but it was too late now. He was already one toe in the water.


	9. He Envies Those That Fly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the long-awaited chapter. It tells the story of a past, and the story of a present. The song is Aerosmith's "Fly Away From Here."  
> Also, the next chapter is going to be purely Lev and Yaku, and I should be posting it soon!

The first and only time Tsukishima ran away from home was when he was nine years old. He'd gotten into a fight with his mother about why she didn't want to leave his father. As a nine-year-old, it wasn't strange for him to say what was on his mind. Akiteru was on his side, but on that day he was at his karate club.

That day, he remembered, was a normal summer one, with high temperatures and low patience. He ran away with no destination in mind, which is why his feet brought him to a hiking ground in a forest.

Slowly, he trudged upwards, his legs carrying his weight and his arms hanging by his sides, tired of protecting himself from his father.

Even though he didn't know where he was, he didn't want to go back. The place where he lived felt more like a prison, and he just now escaped.

As his ankle was in pain, he stopped and sat against a tree. He sighed. “What am I doing?” he asked himself.

At that same time, another voice said, “Hey. What are you doing, sitting there?”

The sun had started to set, so he thought he wouldn't have been able to see this person. Oddly enough, he saw him perfectly. The boy standing over him seemed older but shorter. He had wild dark hair and a wild look in his half-lidded eyes.

“Who are you?” Tsukishima asked him.

“You didn't answer my question yet,” he responded.

Tsukishima already knew that this person would be difficult. “My ankle hurts.”

“Why?”

Why was he asking so many questions? “I ran away from home.”

“Oh.”

“What about you?”

The boy grinned. “I like exploring.”

“You look like you like exploring.”

“And you look like you'd stay at home all day.”

“That's not wrong.”

“Ooh!" The boy seemed to have an idea. “Why don't I take you to the hospital to get your ankle better, and tomorrow, you can help me look for beetles.”

“Why does that have to happen?”

The boy replied, bluntly, “I want a friend.”

Tsukishima winced at his words. The boy bent over in a frog-like position and said, “Since you can't walk, this is probably the best way for now. My bike is at the bottom.”

Reluctantly, he climbed on Kuroo's back, and the two went down the hill together. During that time, Tsukishima could only think of the warmth of his back. It was similar to his brother's warmth, yet different.

At the hospital, Tsukishima got his ankle braced and bandaged. When they separated afterwards, he stared at the strange boy riding his bike away, his shirt and hair flowing through the wind.

The next day, they met at the same spot on the trail and went searching for beetles. For Tsukishima, it was more entertaining than he thought it would be; the boy repeatedly fell on his face and butt.

The boy, Kuroo Tetsurou, had simply told him to call him Tetsu, and he would call him Kei.

“There's no need to be formal,” he reasoned.

They spent hours wandering through the trees. They even went fishing, and cooked the fish they caught over a fire.

Afterwards, they skipped rocks across the river. Kuroo found it the perfect time to talk about himself. “I came here with my grandmother and my dad. We live in Tokyo, but came here for the summer. My best friend, Kenma, also moved here so we're staying with him.”

"If you already have a friend, why couldn't you ask him to do this with you instead?”

“There's no way that guy would leave the house. He's a shut-in. What about you? Do you have any friends who are weird like that?”

“Well, my friend treats me like I'm the boss of a gang. He thinks I'm strong and cool, just because I stood up against some bullies for him. I disagree, though.”

Kuroo smiled. “No...I see his point.”

“What? How?”

“I'm not telling you. But the boss of a gang, huh? Sounds cool when you say it.”

This sort of rendezvous continued for weeks. They even camped out on some nights. On those nights, they talked about the things they liked and the things they hated, and what they wanted to be in the future.

Tsukishima was surprised to see that Kuroo was a lot more docile than he initially seemed. He even said he wanted to be a musician in the future.

“I don't know what I want to be. I'm only nine.”

“That's true.”

However, the two realized that they hardly had anything in common. The only thing seemed to be love for Harry Potter.

As they went on to things they hated, Tsukishima did not hesitate to say, "I hate the man who was my dad."

He expected Kuroo, the older boy, to reprimand him and tell him not to use that word towards family. But Kuroo simply looked at him. His fervent stare wasn't because of their conversation; the fire they'd just created made it seem that way.

Tsukishima realized this, but it didn't alleviate the intensity of the moment. "Do you hate him enough to kill him?" Kuroo asked.

It was a dangerous question. He knew he couldn't lie here, because it was just the two of them and a fire. If he tried to lie, Kuroo would just figure him out anyway. He answered, “I do. But I wouldn't do it. My mother and brother would cry for me if I did.”

“Oh. That's good, then. That's good.”

“...Why are you so weird?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“Hm, I'm not sure. If anything, you're the weird one. You don't act like a nine year-old at all.”

“Whatever. Then, what do you hate?”

“I...hate birds.”

“Birds? Why? What did they ever do to you?”

“Nothing, really. They’re just able to fly wherever they want, whenever they want, and that frustrates me. I want to be able to fly away. All I’ve got are my legs to run.”

“That sounds like something a five-year-old would want.”

Kuroo turned slightly red in his ears. “Shut up.”

Just then, beneath them, the ground started to vibrate. It was a shaking feeling. “Don't tell me—an earthquake? This is bad.”

As the rumbling intensified, Kuroo quickly shielded Tsukishima with his body. “Lay low, Kei.”

“What? What are you doing, Tetsu?”

Kuroo didn't respond. He also couldn't. They were on a hill, so the earthquake caused them to fall down. Kuroo made sure they rolled, as he bore the brunt of the fall.

When the quake ended, Tsukishima realized Kuroo had protected him. He wasn't hurt badly, but that didn't take away from the fact that he broke Tsukishima's fall. All he could feel, in that moment, was frustration.

“Hey. Where's my thanks?” Kuroo asked, “I didn't have to do that, you know.”

“Exactly.”

As suggested by Kuroo himself, to make it up to him, Tsukishima invited him and his family over for dinner. He made sure his father wasn't home that day. Kuroo also didn't bring his father and came only with his grandmother.

Tsukishima hadn't seen two people so similar looking before he met these two. Side by side, Kuroo looked like the younger version of his grandmother (except for the hair; Tsukishima still couldn't quite understand how it worked).

The mothers talked, and there were even some noticed similarities between them despite the forty-year age gap.

His grandmother wanted to take pictures to commemorate the time Kuroo finally made a friend other than Kenma.

“Where’s your brother?” he asked Tsukishima.

“Karate practice. It’s a good thing you’re not meeting him. He’s touchy-feely.”

“So am I.”

“What?”

The dark-haired boy smirked. His hands hovered over Tsukishima and he immediately started to tickle him. The places he was ticklish were his feet and his neck. He tried to hold back his laughter, but he couldn’t. Kuroo’s hands were powerful.

“You two are close, huh?” Tsukishima’s mother commented.

“How so?”

“You usually wouldn’t let others touch you.”

The son scoffed at his mother’s words.

* * *

What felt like only days of spending time together were actually weeks. The two held no modern sense of time. Their sense of time was outdated, like the cassette tapes and records that piled up in the basement of Tsukishima’s home. To them, hours felt like minutes, weeks felt like days, and the month-and-a-half that was their summer vacation was gone.

Tsukishima didn't feel any different than normal on the day Kuroo left. He wouldn't realize until the day after that he'd simply expected to see him again tomorrow.

Kuroo, on the other hand, was almost in tears. Tsukishima had to remind himself that Kuroo was the older one.

He rummaged through his suitcase and took out two leather gloves. They were considerably large and worn out.

“I got these from an old man I met back at home. He gave these to me. You take the right one and I take the left. So that we'll never forget this.”

Tsukishima took the oversized glove. He wanted to say that human memory wasn't full-proof, but he didn't particularly want to see Kuroo's smile disappear.

 

Now, as he was dry-eyed and wide awake in his bed, Tsukishima hated the human memory. He couldn't understand why that summer had completely slipped his mind. Unable to sleep, he went through his things and found the other glove. He put it on. It fit perfectly.

 

At school, Tsukishima was never one to listen to other people's conversations. He deemed it unnecessary and tiring. However, as if on this day he was on some sort of high, he heard everything attached to the name “Kuroo.”

A few of his classmates had been conversing about the former senior's dark reputation. In the perspective of the students and faculty, there wasn't anything good to say. He was hot-headed, sly, and acted like he knew everything without studying.

“Wasn't he gay?” One of them said. “I heard he was pretty open about it.”

“Really? Gross.”

That was Tsukishima's breaking point.

He said loudly, “Instead of gossiping, why don't you use this time to study to get better grades?”

“Huh? Wanna fight, Tsukishima?”

“I do, actually.”

He was telling himself that this assertiveness wasn’t from him. It was from someone who possessed him. Starting fight himself was usually the last thing he would do. Suddenly, Tsukishima was in front of them and punched both of their noses in. Twice. Three times. Five.

It was over when he lost count, and all that was in his line of sight was the skin of his knuckles peeled back and leaking blood.

 

Kuroo was never one to get seriously upset. As volatile as he seemed, he was docile in a way that those outside of the gang wouldn't understand, but it didn't happen often. Therefore revealing this side to Tsukishima was a rare sight for all of them. “Why would you do something so stupid?” he asked the boy whose glasses were hiding the confused look in his eyes.

“Stupid? So defending you is stupid? Then I'll just let them talk shit next time.”

Kuroo looked down at Tsukishima's bloodied hands. “No, I mean, your knuckles...you went so far for me...”

“I even got suspended. I was just returning the favor, you know. For the time during Akaashi-san's kidnapping.”

The defenseless gang leader pulled him in a tight embrace. He didn't care if the others were watching, and although Tsukishima did, he was too absorbed in Kuroo's warmth and smell that he couldn't retaliate.

“Thank you.”

“It's fine. Let go already.”

“No. Never.”

“Are you a nineteen-year-old child?”

“Is it wrong to comfort the guy you like?”

Tsukishima was weak to this side of him.

Kuroo eventually did let go, but only to take a nap in the back room.

* * *

The day Tsukishima found the gun underneath Kuroo's pillow was the same day he started wearing his leather glove and the same day everyone started preparing for their annual Christmas party.

It started with a question from Yaku: “Hey, are we doing secret Santa this year?”

“Of course. Why wouldn't we?” Kuroo responded.

“No offense, Kuro, but last year was a cataclysmic disaster. No one except Kai and Kenma were happy. Everyone knows that Kenma wants anything tech related, and Kai doesn't even mind.”

“Who cares? The next year is always better than the last.”

“That's such an optimistic view it kind of creeps me out.”

They drew lots, and Tsukishima drew Kenma. Kuroo wouldn't tell him who he drew.

Afterwards, they went to the nearest (ramshackle) party store and bought a few decorations, including a miniature pine tree.

Having bought presents for his mother and Akiteru, he asked Kuroo if he could hide them at his home for the time being, so that his mother wouldn't accidentally come across them.

As he was looking for a good spot, he saw a piece of something black sticking out of Kuroo's pillow. Out of curiosity, he pulled it out. 

In his hands was an older version of a pistol. It wasn't loaded, and he doubted Kuroo actually had bullets hidden somewhere, so he put it back, concealed. He tried to forget what he witnessed himself holding, but the frigid feel of the gun lingered afterwards. It was only a moment, but it spiked his adrenaline. In contrast, strangely, it calmed his nerves.

Kuroo returned from getting drinks and leftover sushi. He noticed the leather glove that took him almost the entire day to realize was there. “You...that...you're wearing it?” he asked.

“Clearly.” Tsukishima couldn’t wait for Kuroo’s indecisiveness any longer.

“Do...you remember?”

“I do. I rem—”

“Wait, wait, wait. Are you wearing all your clothes underneath this table? Because if you aren't, then this is a dream.”

He couldn't stop himself from turning red at his words. “I'm going to hit you. Seriously. If you're asleep in that brain up there, then wake up already, Tetsu. What kind of dreams do you even have about me?”

 _“Tetsu.”_ That alone was enough to wake him up.


	10. A Story About Lemons (and some honey)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like this chapter a lot, though it's somewhat slow and tells their story in pieces. The song is "Lemon" by Serial TV Drama.

Their apparent fights weren’t because they were constantly at odds with each other. In fact, it was the opposite; they were doing well enough in their relationship that it would seem suspicious if they _didn’t_ stage a fight or two. To everyone but Tsukishima, they were the normal oddball duo: the two whose comedic senpai-kouhai bond transcended the disparity in their height. To Tsukishima, Yaku and Lev were an odd pair of lovers.

Before his time with Nekoma even began, Haiba Lev only knew about Yaku and the gang through rumors at his middle school. They were revered as an urban legend. His older sister Alisa, who was in a biker gang back in high school, told him stories of her adventures. This was most likely the reason for his interest in Nekoma, despite his disinterest in fighting.

Lev wanted the thrill. He wanted the adventure and the excitement and the danger. He was only fifteen at the time, so his sister was against his reckless ambition. She said, “You still have your whole life ahead of you, Lyovochka! You’re not even in high school yet! Don’t chase after them because of some fleeting curiosity!”

He replied, “I just…want friends.” He did. His parents and sister weren’t around as often as he’d wanted, and being in a large house like his, alone, required the perseverance he didn’t have.

“You don’t even know what they’re like…”

Alisa knew when Lev’s brightest smiles appeared. It was whenever he was _certain,_ and he had nothing holding him back. Often he relied on his instinct rather than his brain, and so far, he’s managed.

“I’ll be fine,” he said.

 

“It’s not fine! Why would you think it is?!”

Yaku’s mother tended to be excruciatingly loud when she became upset. He wanted to wear headphones, but that would only upset her more. It wasn’t as if she spoke to him on a regular. She only did so when he got into trouble, to give him money, or when he had to do some family business.

Despite all this, Yaku loved her. “You’re a saint,” Kuroo would tell him, but Yaku Morisuke wasn’t a saint at all. It was only how he felt.

However, at that time, a switch flipped inside of him. “Mom, I don’t think you understand how much the gang means to me.”

“You’re right. I don’t. Your father does. But—”

“But _what?_ I’m not a child. I’m not going to just _listen_ to whatever you say.”

She knew she wasn’t going to win this argument. They’d had this quarrel a million times before, but in the end, she would allow him to do what he wanted. She would incessantly tell herself that it was a “phase” he was going through, and to let him ride through it.

That was what she did—until he brought home a certain lanky boy with silver hair and said, “This is…my _boyfriend_.”

* * *

The two of them met in a supermarket at around seven before dawn. They were probably the only two in Japan who actually preferred going at this time. It was the peace and solitude that attracted them, but ironically, in front of a lemon heap, they attracted each other.

Yaku didn’t ask Lev to get the lemons for him. The giant simply acted on his own, taking four lemons from the top, and handing them to Yaku with a smile. “Here ya go, kid.”

Although he accepted them, he nearly shouted, “I’m not a kid! I bet I’m older than you!”

“…I’m fifteen.”

“Ha! I’m seventeen!”

 _But you’re still shorter,_ went through his mind, though he didn’t say it (for his own good). He took a closer look at the peach-haired boy and recognized his clothes. Excitement rushed through his pores. “That black and red style…you’re from Nekoma, aren’t you?”

“So what if I am?” Yaku tried to be coy, but it was only because he, as his initial anger subsided, realized Lev was handsome. He wasn’t sure handsome was the right word, but his sea green eyes and almost metallic hair had entranced him.

“My name is Haiba Lev. If you are, please let me join!”

“No way!” he responded immediately, “Our gang isn’t for a kid like you. Besides, I’m only the vice, so I don’t make these decisions.”

“We’re only two years apart. Plus, I’m taller and way more intimidating than—”

Yaku interrupted his folly by drilling his fist in Lev’s stomach. The giant was handsome indeed, but his personality was something else. Yaku took his basket of lemons and preceded to checkout. “I’m Yaku,” he said, “and thanks for the lemons.”

Lev couldn’t forget his sudden, child-like grin. It prompted him to follow the stranger with lemons, since he was most likely headed towards the Nekoma base.

He was fairly confident in his tailing and stealth; he often did so to his sister when he was young. The only reason he did such a thing was per the request of his father, who wanted to know what kind of guy she was dating.

His excitement grew as he saw Yaku walking into the basement of an abandoned building.

“Oi, Yaku! What is that?!” a younger Kuroo exclaimed (though to Lev he was an irritable guy with top-notch fighting skills and strange hair), as he pointed to the silver-haired giant standing behind Yaku.

 _“That?”_ Lev repeated.

“Oh, this guy? We met in the supermarket. He was following me,” he explained.

“You knew I was following you? Why didn’t you stop me?”

“It was pretty obvious. But I figured since you were doing all that, it would be too troublesome to stop you.” He patted Lev’s back, propelling him forward. “So, ask him.”

Now that the chance was practically begging to be grasped, Lev could not mess this up. This is what he told himself before he asked Kuroo, “Um, could you let me be with you?!”

The gang, aside from Kuroo but including Yaku, broke out into laughter. “Sorry, I don’t swing that way,” he somewhat seriously responded. None of the members decided to point out that this statement was a lie.

“No, I mean—” Lev fumbled, which was something that didn’t usually happen. He made mistakes for sure, but he was never embarrassed. The more he saw Yaku laughing because of his misleading words, the more his ears flamed.

“This guy, Lev, wants to join. Our gang,” Yaku clarified.

Kuroo almost immediately replied, “Oh, if it’s that, then sure.”

“Really, Banchou? This guy looks like he can’t keep a secret or tell a lie,” Tora commented.

“If I didn’t let someone join just because of that, then you wouldn’t be here,” he retorted. “Besides, he already knows our location.” He faced the confused fifteen year-old. “Alright, Lev. It looks like Yaku is interested in you so I’ll leave him to you. Welcome to Nekoma.”

It seemed grand at first, but immediately after this, Lev went through an increasingly thorough questioning about his interests and the like. They confirmed he was an avid _Detective Zero_ watcher. He noticed, though, that they didn’t ask a single question about his family.

He appreciated that.

* * *

After much grumbling, complaining and arguing, the first time Yaku and Lev bonded was over a ONE OK ROCK interview on television. The gang was at Yaku’s home making preparations to watch a major soccer match later on. They usually didn’t watch sports together because rooting for different teams ended in fights, but Lev claimed he would be able to stop them.

Yaku and Lev were alone at the time since the rest went out to buy food and drinks. It was then when Lev said, “Hey. Taka is pretty handsome, don’t you think?”

“Sure,” Yaku answered warily.

Jokingly, he went further. “And me?”

“…Sure…” He was sure Yaku was going to kick him or the like, but his too-good-to-be-true response left him speechless.

That was a difficult feat for Lev to achieve.

Incidentally, a fight—brawl—of sorts did eventually break out. Lev wasn’t able to stop them or Yaku, or himself.

He fought with the widest smile on his face.

* * *

During another time they bonded, Yaku got himself into an accident. He hadn’t slept well the night before, so he hadn’t noticed that he put on his sandals instead of his shoes.

Lev noticed right away, but he assumed it was a sort of fashion statement.

When Yaku finally realized he had on the wrong footwear, a trail of red had been following him. He saw the glass that pierced his foot, and didn’t think it was that serious until Lev noticed it and started freaking out himself.

“Yaku-san, don’t die! There are still a lot of things I want to tell you…”

“What the hell are you going on about? Just take me to the hospital!” Yaku exclaimed.

Kuroo egged them on with just a glance, as if he could read Lev’s thoughts. However, Kuroo was probably thinking that the two of them would finally come to an understanding with one another. But Lev was only thinking about the way Yaku would feel against his back as he carried him.

This is exactly what ended up happening. Lev couldn’t pinpoint when it was that he’d begun to be charmed by Yaku: when they first met? Soon after that? And now he was being helplessly barraged with feelings: the feel of Yaku’s lips on his nape and his hair making him ticklish. There was a lot more, but he couldn’t put them into words. He couldn’t find words large enough.

Later on, after Lev caught his breath from running the way to the hospital, he discovered Yaku hadn’t slept well the night before because he was catching a cold. Lev only knew one way to deal with colds: lemon and honey. He didn't have the items to do it the normal way his mother taught him, by squeezing out lemon juice from a lemon and adding honey. Instead, he bought some lemon juice and honey, and mixed it from there.

Yaku looked at his remedy with nostalgic eyes. "So you know how to make this..."

"My mom taught me so that I could take care of my sister when she was sick."

"So a 'kind giant' huh?" Yaku said, grinning.

"Whaat? You still only see me as a giant?"

"What are you talking about? I bet you only see me as your kid brother or something. Even though I'm older."

 _Never once_ , he thought. Lev hadn't realized he said it out loud until Yaku hit him in his stomach.

The short-haired (and tempered) boy then gulped down Lev's remedy. "When I was younger, I had to take care of my mother, who was sick often. I made the lemon-honey remedy for her. She would listen to me talk for hours about how my day was, even though she wasn't feeling well. Now, though, I doubt she remembers that."

Lev didn't have to think before responding. "No. I bet she does."

"Based on what?"

"My gut."

Yaku rolled over, away from Lev, to hide the mix of emotions that suddenly appeared on his face. "When my crutches arrive," he said, "we're leaving."

Lev gleefully replied, "Okay."

 

Yaku didn't realize his feelings for Lev were romantic (and not just romantic) until he saw him being friendly with a beautiful girl. Even though she was tall like him and had his silver hair, he couldn't assure himself with the possibility that she was just a relative. 

He'd been imagining himself there instead of her, and Lev was talking to him about date ideas. Yaku found himself _wanting_ Lev. He found himself wanting the younger boy's hands tracing the cuts and scars on his body. He wanted him to kiss them, and him, everywhere. He wondered if that made him less of a man, but he decided that it didn't matter.

When Lev told him, "She's my sister," a weight had been lifted.

 

Neither of them acted on these feelings despite their closeness, until Lev had "coincidentally" enrolled in Yaku's high school.

A premonition of dread hung over his head as he saw Lev waving to him from afar, during the opening ceremony.

"What are you doing here? Are you stalking me?" he'd said to him later on.

"What kind of a question is that?" he responded, laughing. "Weren't you the one who wanted me to?"

"When?"

"Thinking about it now, that might have been a dream..."

A dark aura came from Yaku immediately, and Lev started to back away. This turned into a run as Yaku's approach became more frightening.

Somehow, it turned into a chase, and the both of them forgot why they were doing this in the first place. As Yaku got close enough to Lev to grab his arm, he accidentally tripped over himself and grabbed Lev's shirt without thinking, bringing him down with him. Neither of them wanted to go to class then; they were too busy looking at each other.

* * *

Lev had no trouble lifting Yaku up. To the latter's dismay, this happened more often than he'd liked. When he asked Lev why he did this to him, he responded with, "I can't help it."

It wasn't long after that when Lev accidentally admitted his feelings to Yaku. He'd been holding back for a long time, so he hadn't realized that he was at his limit. Of course, Lev was always one of little patience to begin with.

About a half-hour earlier, they'd gotten locked in the school's janitor closet. Yaku, who was the janitor's assistant (his community service—instead of suspension—from all the fights he'd gotten into), went to get his jacket that he left. Of course, Lev followed him.

What the two didn't know was that the door to the closet was old and had a strange way of closing and opening.

"You can't open it? Are you really trying, Yaku-san? I know you're small, but still..."

This was Yaku's fifth try. "Oi, Lev, if I wanted to, I could kick your ass right now! If I can't do it, you can't!"

"Alright, calm down! It was a joke."

"Not to me! Being this small, for me, is inconvenient. It pisses me off sometimes."

"What? Why?"

Yaku seemed to dread saying these next words out loud. "Because I can never see you properly. It's always at an angle, really annoying."

Something inside of Lev told him not to do it. That was probably his mind. However, he tended to rely on his instinct. Although within the walls of a dusty ramshackle closet, his gut told him it was now or never. It was almost perfect: they were alone and it was dark, so Yaku wouldn't have to see the embarrassed and contorted expression on his face as he spoke.

"Yaku-san, _hypothetically_ , let's say I told you I liked you and asked you out on a date. What would you say?"

It was dangerously silent. This silence could have gone two ways: Yaku hitting him or seriously considering it.

But for Yaku, there was nothing to consider. "First, I'd make sure you were sober. Then, I'd check to see if you have a fever."

"So? What happens after you take years ruling everything else out?"

"I ask you if you're serious."

"And if I am?"

Before Yaku answered him, he asked, " _Are_ you serious?"

"Yeah. It's not hypothetical."

Slowly, a nervous but excited smile found its way across Yaku's face. Slowly, he leaned over to the sitting Lev and kissed his cheekbone, next to his eye. He did it lightly and softly, contrary to the usual him.

"How's that for an answer?"

Just then, the door opened with a large swing. Tora stood at the entrance. "What're you guys doing in here? The door was unlocked."

Lev glared at him with the _"you're a complete cockblock"_ look.

"Eh? Then how come we couldn't get it open? Wait, it opens outside? This whole time, the damn door was just reversed." Yaku could've been angrier, but he got to affirm his relationship with Lev. He felt lighter, and that was enough. He turned to the ghost-like giant. "Hey, let's go."

Lev sighed. "Tora-san...what did you have to open the door for, anyway?"

"Hm? Oh, this room is where I hide my cigarettes from teachers."

Yaku turned to him. "You know, Tora, you should quit smoking. It drives Kuro insane."

Tora shrugged back then, but he would later understand.

* * *

Their first kiss wasn’t actually a kiss. It was more like Yaku tricking Lev in order to steal the lemon candy that was in his mouth. From Lev’s perspective, it was a sly trick, but for Yaku, he only stole the candy because he was embarrassed to simply kiss him out of nowhere while they were supposed to be studying at his house.

Their second time was only seconds after this, when Lev grabbed Yaku by the arm and pulled him down on his lap. He didn’t say anything; he started the kiss gently and when he realized he couldn’t stop himself, he got rougher and suddenly Yaku was only in his briefs and Lev was shirtless.

Nothing continued, however, because Yaku’s mother knocked on the door to check up on them. They rushed to put their clothes back on, but they weren’t able to act normal. Not after what almost happened.

“…Is there something going on I should know about?” his mother asked. Her eyes narrowed. “Is it porn?”

 _Not that off the mark,_ Yaku thought. As much as he wanted to lie and say that (which was better than the truth, in that situation), he couldn’t. “No actually, this guy, Lev, is my boyfriend.”

His mother dropped the glasses of iced coffee she’d been holding. She initially wanted to slap her son for making such a joke, but she refrained from doing so, because abuse was never the answer and it probably wasn’t a joke. “Are you serious?” she asked. She turned to Lev, who had turned pale. Despite the fear of her reaction, the two of them nodded. “This isn’t just a phase?”

“No,” they said.

Just then, Yaku’s strong-willed mother broke down into tears. She wept, not because she was disappointed or upset, but because she was grateful. She realized that she was thankful for Lev, who taught her son how to love someone, as she was unable to.

“M-mom?” Yaku said, confused.

Lev, knowing the two had to be alone, flashed Yaku a smile and left the room to let them talk.

When they were done, his mother approached and quietly thanked him.

As she was no longer in their sight, without hesitation, Yaku pulled Lev down to him and they kissed.

It tasted sour like lemon and sweet like honey.


	11. The Lonely Planet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been pretty busy for me lately, so I haven't had a lot of time to write, but I hope you enjoy the chapter! It's Christmas for the guys and Tsukki becomes more aware of things.  
> The song is "So Lonely" by The Police.

“He’s in a disgustingly happy mood.”

Yaku didn’t have to say anything to Tsukishima for him to know. He was already aware that Kuroo was like this—and that he was the reason. “Well, I told him something he wanted to hear,” he replied. It wasn’t strange for him to be happy, since Tsukishima confirmed with him that he remembered that summer.

Kuroo was so elated that he went and bought Tsukishima a stuffed pterodactyl from a toy store.

“What is this?” he asked, perplexed.

“Is this not a dinosaur?” Kuroo was doubting his life science knowledge.

“It is, but why are you giving it to me?”

“Because I’m happy.”

“I can tell.” With a good look at it, Tsukishima realized it was actually a perfect gift. “This and the hoodie make a collection now. Don’t spoil me too much with this stuff.”

Kuroo knew this was his way of thanking him. “You’re welcome.”

“The atmosphere between you two is weird,” Yaku remarked.

So that he wouldn’t go any further, Tsukishima said, “I think the atmosphere between you and Lev is weirder.”

Yaku’s mouth dropped, but he then smiled at Tsukishima’s crafty response.

Later on, per Lev and Tora’s requests, the gang gathered at a fast-food restaurant for a study session. The two of them needed it the most. However, as boys will be boys, they quickly deviated from studying and talked about TV, music, and girls instead. This last topic was somewhat touchy for some of them (i.e. Lev, Yaku, and Kuroo), especially Tsukishima.

He was at an unsure point in his life—the main cause of that uncertainty sat right next to him.

The daunting question finally came from Tora’s mouth: “Tsukishima, what about you? What’s your type?”

“I’m not interested,” was the best response at his disposal. It was perfectly ambiguous.

Kenma, noticing Tsukishima’s reaction, drove the conversation away from girls. Kuroo noticed this as well, but he wanted to know what Tsukishima was going to say.

“I thought you guys were supposed to be studying,” Yaku said.

“But, like, who is supposed to understand physics?” Tora asked. The gang collectively agreed.

"That's what Kei and I are here for," Kuroo said, putting his arm over Tsukishima's shoulder. The latter knew he just used that as an excuse to touch him. He didn't know, or realize, when Kuroo had begun calling him by his first name.

"Do you even remember anything from high school?" he retorted, to distract himself from the dangerously comfortable mood.

"How long do you think it's been? Ye of little faith."

"Okay, then, what does the sine curve look like?"

Before, the two of them had talked about things they had trouble remembering, and this was something specific that Kuroo couldn't remember. "It's a curve," he said. "It goes up and down."

Tsukishima smiled mockingly, prompting Kuroo to take a pen and draw it out many times until it was right.

"You awoke the beast," Kai told him.

"No," he replied, "he was always a beast."

Somehow, as Tsukishima was teaching Lev history, Kuroo gave up trying to draw the sine curve and ended up drawing Tsukishima's glasses instead.

He noticed this, and it embarrassed him. “Am I all you think about?” he asked quietly, so the others wouldn't hear.

“I guess. There’s these guys, too. And my book collection. And salted mackerel.” He flashed the smile that started all of Tsukishima's troubles in the first place. “Does that bother you?” he asked, as if he already knew the answer or he wanted to believe that he did.

 Tsukishima wanted to deny him, but he found that too tiresome, so he said, “Not really.”

As if he gave up on studying altogether, Tora suggested on playing the poker game they always played.

Much like the time he jumped into the river with them, Tsukishima gave up and went along with it.

“You'll regret it,” he said, because he was sure he was going to win.

* * *

The Christmas season reminded Tsukishima of ice skating. Whenever he saw an ice skating rink, his mind flashed back to a moment with his father that he appreciated. He was seven then, and his mother had kicked him and his father out of the house to get some exercise. Neither of them wanted to run, or go to the gym, so somehow they came upon ice skating. Both of them were horrible at it; they couldn't keep their balance and Tsukishima back then was afraid of ice.

To an outsider, they looked like two fools who should have been watching a movie instead. But Tsukishima had fun falling.

However, it was around this same time five years later when his father left for good. _"Attempted murder?"_ Yamaguchi had asked him when he told him the story. _"Who did he try...?"_

 _"Who else?"_ Tsukishima had stated dryly. That night was burned into his memory. The image of his father losing his temper was normal—the image of his hands around his mother's neck wasn't.

"Kei? Oi, Kei."

That voice belonged to the person with rooster hair who always said charming words and acted nice when he really wasn't.

"What?" Tsukishima hadn't realized he'd spaced out.

"Are you okay? You look pale."

"I'm fine," he lied. He knew that Kuroo was be able to tell when he lied, but he only hoped he didn't call him out on it.

"...Koutarou and the gang are coming over."

"Why? It's only Christmas."

He shook his head. "No. They're coming _because_ it's Christmas. Last year, they barged in here with their beers and karaoke machine."

Tsukishima snickered. "Karaoke?"

"Koutarou brought it, but it was pretty boring."

"Ah. So you can't sing," he concluded.

"...Who said that?"

"No one. It's just glaringly obvious with you."

Kuroo scoffed. Tsukishima wondered how bad his singing could be, and it couldn't have been worse than his own.

 

It was time for the secret Santa exchange. Kuroo was so in the Christmas spirit that he arrived to the hideout in a Santa costume (minus the itchy beard).

Tsukishima had gotten Kenma a new cat bowl and a cat onesie, as well as a _Legend of Zelda_ game. Kenma had mentioned to him before that he needed new things for his cat.

While Lev had Kuroo and Yaku had Lev, the latter assured his boyfriend that he would get his present later. Lev looked down at the apron Yaku had given him, and without an explanation he understood what it meant. It took him a considerable amount of constraint to not kiss Yaku right then and there.

Kuroo ended up receiving a book about writing from Lev. Strangely, it was almost the perfect gift, because of a conversation he’d had with Tsukishima a few days ago. They were lounging around in the bookstore when Kuroo asked him what he should do with his life.

_“What are you talking about? You’re working at this store, aren’t you?”_

_“Yeah, but I live with my dad, who can’t even look me in the eye.”_

_“Valid point.”_ He thought about it for a while until he realized what they were surrounded around almost every day. _“Why don’t you become a writer?”_

He wasn’t waiting for those words, nor did he expect them. Above all, Kuroo was a fighter. How could he be a writer? But Lev’s gift (which Tsukishima had probably suggested to him) said otherwise.

Tora gave Yaku a rice cooker, of all things. Kai gave Tora a wooden sword (he found it on EBay for cheap). Inuoka’s present to Kai was a gold chain necklace, and Kenma’s gift to Inuoka was a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses.

By process of elimination, Tsukishima realized that Kuroo must have been responsible for his present. What he felt wasn’t surprise or delight. It was more so frustration than anything, because he couldn’t possibly know what more Kuroo could give him.

He felt relieved when he handed him a strawberry shortcake. “For your secret sweet tooth,” he said with a smile. “I figured you wouldn’t want anything grand.”

“Thanks.” Tsukishima then rummaged through his pockets and took out a long, black rectangular box. “This is my separate present for you.”

Kuroo paused in awe. “A mixtape?”

“It has my favorite songs on it. I couldn’t think of anything else, and besides, I can’t forget that you called my music ‘emo.’ So listen to it.”

“You—you didn’t have to get me anything!”

“The same goes for you.”

“...You titled it ‘For the Moon’?”

“Oh. About that...” This was the part he dreaded to explain. He scratched his head and took a deep breath. He could feel his face burn with embarrassment. “Sometimes, I feel you’re more like the moon than me. Or the sun. Whatever.” He didn’t want to see the dopey expression he knew Kuroo was going to have, so he looked away.

However, when he finally did look, he saw the faintest trails of tears from his eyes. Luckily, the others weren’t paying much attention to them.

“Why are you crying?” Tsukishima asked him. He felt helpless whenever he was in front of someone crying; he was horrible with comfort and empathy.

“I’m not crying. It’s raining or something.” Kuroo denied it, but his tears became heavier. The rough gangster image he'd spent years working on shattered to his feet in a matter of minutes. All because of Tsukishima Kei.

“I’m pretty sure that indoor ‘rain’ is saltwater, though.” When he stopped, Tsukishima lifted the sleeve of his shirt and wiped away Kuroo’s remaining saltwater. He repeated, “Why did you cry?”

“To be honest,” he answered, “I don’t know.”

That was the day Tsukishima realized that Kuroo Tetsurou was not just a friend to him. He would not be so confused if it were Yamaguchi. But by that same token, if it were Yamaguchi, he would not wipe away his tears. He wouldn't desire to be the reason why he'd smile every day. He wouldn't have made a mixtape solely for him. If, as they’d spoken about before, the moon got lonely because it never met its other half, then that was no longer the case. For Tsukishima, at least. Kuroo wouldn't let him feel alone.

 

They were all prepared for the _Ou-sama_ Game, because Bokuto had suggested it last Christmas, but no one was prepared for what transpired that night. Clothes flew off, middle fingers went up, swears were exchanged, and Tsukishima almost broke his glasses in uncharacteristic jealousy.

Bokuto had ordered numbers five and eight to take their pants off, so Yaku’s lemon yellow boxers and Tsukishima’s dinosaur ones were suddenly revealed. Lev and Kuroo disapproved, but Bokuto ignored them until Akaashi had to strip everything but his underwear.

“Isn’t this just strip poker, minus the cards?” Tora complained.

The game intensified and everyone showed their competitive sides. When Lev became King, he ordered numbers one and five to kiss.

Tsukishima shuddered. It wasn’t because he was a victim, but because Kuroo was, and the person he had to kiss was Bokuto.

“Wait!” he almost said. Who was he to stop them, though? It was a game, and he and Kuroo were just friends. Why did it matter whom he kissed? Tsukishima began visioning himself there instead of the spiky-haired party animal, especially as the beer they had seemed to be making the kiss last longer than necessary.

“Tsukishima! Your glasses!” Lev exclaimed, and he realized he had almost broken his favorite square lenses. He glanced at Akaashi, who’d been silently biting on his hair.

“ _Anyway,_ ” Kenma said to the rescue, “I think this game is done, yeah?”

Later, after he sobered up, Bokuto approached Tsukishima. Although he acted like an idiot sometimes, he was skilled at connecting dots. He’d realized that Tsukishima was probably jealous of what had transpired. “Sorry ‘bout that, Tsukki,” he said. “It was just for fun.”

“I don’t care if you two fool around.”

“Oh? Then you wouldn’t mind if I kissed him right now?”

Tsukishima didn’t respond.

“Exactly. You’re not honest, are you?”

“Clearly.” His acerbic tone only proved Bokuto’s insight was spot on.

Bokuto sighed. “I’m sure he feels bad, too. He just won’t say anything to you because he’s convinced himself that you don’t see him in that way. We had a thing before, but now he’s my wingman. My brother.”

He recalled the windy autumn day on which they met. They’d been staring each other down in an alleyway for about thirty minutes. They were standing there because Kuroo, the rascal from another school, had challenged him to a duel. They each had heard rumors about the other, even while one lived in the city and the other in the suburbs.

_“You ready yet? Don’t tell me I came all the way to Miyagi just to stare at your rooster hair.”_

_“Shut up, you fucking horned owl,”_ Kuroo snapped. _“This is natural beauty. How much gel did it take for that hair to stand up?”_

That was when they started fighting. They seemed to be even in strength, speed, and Kuroo even had better technique, but Bokuto was more unpredictable. That was why he won. That was Kuroo’s first loss, but it was the last time he lost against Bokuto.

“So it was a tie every other time?” Tsukishima asked.

“Yeah. And each time we would fight until we each had a black eye. It was always him challenging me, though. I just responded in kind.”

“And you visited Tetsu and clung to him, right? That’s what he told me.”

Bokuto froze. “Tetsurou!” he shouted, and ran to the culprit.

Tsukishima let them have their comedy skit. He looked down at his cake and realized that it was too large for him to eat alone.

* * *

The guys spent New Year’s Eve with their families, so on New Year’s Day, they decided to join at the nearest shrine early in the morning. The first ones there were the two who didn’t quite know how to speak to the other just yet. Tsukishima couldn’t kill the image of Kuroo and Bokuto kissing, even if their relationship was only platonic.

“I know you’re upset,” Kuroo finally said, after minutes of dreadful silence.

“I’m usually quiet.”

“Yeah, but you usually don’t let out an air of choler.”

“You literally could have just said ‘anger.’ No need to act smart.”

“I _am_ smart. You know that.” Kuroo drew closer to his face. “What is with you?” he asked.

“It’s none of your business.” _It has everything to do with you._

“What are you talking about? We’re partners.”

“Since when?” _I still hardly know anything about you._

Kuroo, who was about to snap back in frustration, stopped because he saw something behind Tsukishima that required immediate attention. His mouth agape, he pointed to two people kissing behind a tree. Tsukishima turned around, and upon seeing Yaku and Lev sucking face, he was only surprised because they were doing it in such a sacred place.

When Yaku opened his eyes, he saw them staring, and he tried to push Lev away as if nothing had just happened. They saw him, red-faced, mumble some words to Lev, who turned pale. He turned around and stepped back from the incoming tornado that was his leader.

Lev said with a dry laugh, “I guess the cat’s out of the bag.”


	12. Twin Size Mattress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is dialogue-heavy and emotion-heavy. Not a lot happens, but Tsukki and Kuroo develop emotionally (and somewhat physically?). Also, Kenma gives advice because Kuroo is hopeless on his own. The song is "Twin Size Mattress" by The Front Bottoms. Enjoy.

“Is our friendship a lie?! Morisuke!” The only times Kuroo ever used Yaku's first name were in moments like these, when their friendship was tested. “Come out here, Morisuke!” he shouted.

“Tetsu, calm down. They're already here.”

Neither Yaku nor Lev could look at Kuroo in the eyes. They were instead looking at the well and the fortunes, trying to pretend that what happened didn't happen.

“Look at me,” Kuroo demanded. Normally, Yaku would fire back with ‘who the hell do you think you're talking to?’ but he knew better. “I'm sorry,” he said.

“ _We're_ sorry,” Lev corrected. “But Yaku-san and I—”

Kuroo stopped him with the raise of his hand. “Don't apologize to me. Apologize to the guys when they get here.”

“They have to know, too?” Yaku asked, almost as a complaint.

“It wouldn't be fair. You know that, Yaku. But,”—Kuroo changed the tone of his voice—“what I really want to know is when and how.” The lining of a smile creeped up on his face. He seemed to have forgiven them; Tsukishima knew it was because Kuroo kept everything they've been through a secret from the others as well.

“Yeah. When and how sound good,” said a voice from behind them.

It was Kai. The rest of the gang had already arrived before Kuroo and Tsukishima, but ended up wandering around and getting lost. They witnessed everything as well. “What's going on? You guys are dating now?” Tora said.

Lev glanced down at Yaku and strengthened his resolve. _For Yaku-san_ , he thought. “The thing is—”

To his surprise, Yaku interrupted him. “That's right. Do any of you little shits—and Kai have a problem with that?!”

There was an expected silence, followed by more silence, followed by widened eyes and hanging mouths. 

“Wait. Before we all freak out, doesn't it make a lot of sense? They've been acting suspicious lately,” Kai reasoned.

“You say lately, but they probably hooked up about a year ago,” Tora said.

Yaku raised his voice. “You knew already?”

“I only just put the pieces together! That storage closet was your cupid, wasn't it?” Tora laughed and made kissing noses at them, to Yaku's chagrin. Lev was just glad no one was upset.

Actually, it was too soon to feel that way. “Why? Why did you keep something so important a secret from us?” Inuoka stepped up and said. They didn't want to say it, but they all relatively felt that way.

“Keeping secrets only separates you from us,” Kenma added. He had his suspicions from the start, but he didn't assume any of it was true. Because that meant a part of them didn't trust the gang.

“He's right. Don't you trust us?” Kai said.

Yaku and Lev exchanged glances. “We thought our relationship would go smoother if it was a secret. We just didn't want any problems from you guys getting so involved,” Yaku explained. It was a nicer way of saying, “You guys are crazy, and you'll definitely get involved in our relationship.”

“We get that, Yaku. But, just look at us. We're all happy for you. We wouldn't screw up what you guys have,” Kuroo said. He turned to everyone else. “Right, guys?”

“Who cares, we just want to see them kiss!” Tora exclaimed. Inuoka hit him on the head for his outburst.

“In your wet dreams, you moron!” Yaku fired. “This is exactly what I mean!”

“More like Lev's wet dreams! I'm straight, in case you forgot!”

“Don't go taking about something so private right in front of me,” Lev said, slightly irritated himself.

“Also, there’s the wedding,” Kai added.

“Have you forgotten that they’re both guys?” Kuroo stated, “Though it would be nice to see…”

Lev brightened at the thought, but Yaku was glaring at him before he could even entertain the idea. They’d entertained enough of their future plans on Lev’s birthday a few months ago, but even those were somewhat forgotten because of all the “kissing practice” that night.

Kuroo stood in front of Yaku to stop his near-outrage in front of a shrine. “Why don't we go pray now? I think we all need it.”

 

Later, Kuroo asked Tsukishima why he wasn't fazed at all about any of the recent events.

“I already knew. If you have eyes and a brain, it's pretty obvious.”

“Not if you've known them for a long time.”

“Even then, they still might be hiding things from you.”

“...I feel like we're not talking about them anymore.”

“Maybe not.”

Kuroo stopped walking. “Why do you do that?” he asked. He sounded unusually irritated, something new for even Tsukishima.

Kuroo knew he was in love with Tsukishima. He knew this, and wanted to cherish him, but in moments such as these he wanted, above all else, to pin him down and get him to understand his feelings. He also knew this was dangerous thinking, so he’d suppressed it, but now the impulse grew stronger.

“Do what?” Tsukishima finally replied.

“It's obvious that something is bothering you, but instead of telling me, you act like I'm supposed to figure it out.”

He didn't realize that's what he was doing until Kuroo said this. However, even if he knew now, he didn't know how to put his feelings into words. So he didn't say anything at all.

* * *

Black, red and blue. Those were the colors Kuroo began arriving to the base with. Following the shrine visit, this pattern showed itself; Kuroo would show up, clearly having been in a fight, but he wouldn't say anything about it and no one would ask.

If his goal was to give Tsukishima a taste of his own medicine, it was working. Seeing Kuroo with red dripping from his mouth, bruised black and blue churned his heart like butter. But since he was going to play at this game, he was going to let him.

It continued incessantly for about a week, and he was able to distract himself with teasing Lev and Yaku's PDA, but one day his heart was at its breaking point.

That day, Kuroo wasn't just in bruises. He covered it up with his jacket, but Tsukishima saw there was something wrong. Without a forewarning, he unzipped Kuroo's jacket and there was a diagonal slash from his chest to his abdomen oozing with blood.

“How are you still standing?” he asked harshly. “Who did this to you? This is because of me, isn’t it? Is this our way of fighting, or something? Do you have to look like this for me to understand?”

Kuroo realized that Tsukishima was doing his thing where he asked too many questions at once whenever he became emotional. It was an occurrence from rarely to almost never, so even he didn’t know what to say. The only other time it happened was when they were younger and Kuroo had to leave, but even then he tried to seem indifferent.

He decided to answer the easiest question first. “Me,” he said. “I started the fight.”

“Banchou, who do we have to track down?” Tora asked grimly.

“Talk about that later,” Tsukishima said. “I’m taking him to the hospital.”

“I’m coming along,” Kenma declared, and Tsukishima immediately knew he had something else in mind.

 

As Kuroo was getting treated, Kenma turned to Tsukishima. “So you know he’s like this because of you.”

“Yes, I know. I know I disrupt his pace and muddle his mind. I know he picked fights so that he wouldn’t think about me. Are you going to give me a pep-talk or something? Because I’m not in the mood.”

“No. That sort of thing isn’t my style. I just want to ask: do you like him?”

He didn’t know how to respond. “I probably do, but I don’t quite understand what that means."

“All that means is that you can’t see him as simply the gang leader, or your friend. No matter how well he can fight, you worry about him and get angry. You’re jealous over him. You want to know everything about him. Just to name a few.”

“I don’t like how much you know.”

Kenma shrugged. “They’re things I notice. Though, he told me about the kiss on his birthday.” Upon recalling it, Tsukishima muddled his own mind. “Wow,” Kenma said, “your ears are red.”

“They’re not.” He could feel they were.

Kenma sighed and stood up from the seats in the waiting area. He said, “I’m going to talk to him now.” He sighed again. “This is tiresome.”

 _Then don’t do anything,_ Tsukishima thought.

Kenma was something like Kuroo’s life-glue. He mended things that needed mending; he helped when no one else could. Therefore Kuroo knew what he wanted when he showed up in the hospital room. The doctor had just finished wrapping the bandages.

“I know what you’re going to tell me, Kenma.”

“Okay.”

“You’re going to tell me that I need to confront him myself or something. That we have to communicate or whatever.”

“You guys should seriously just let me talk first. Not good at the guessing thing. I only want to tell you that you should have seen the look in his eyes when you arrived.”

“His eyes?”

“His eyes—his face, it looked like something broke.”

“Are you saying that I hurt him somehow?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. He cares about you, Kuro. But I don’t think he shows it very well.”

Kuroo only followed about ten percent of Kenma’s words, but if he had to make Tsukishima feel better, he could do that. His frustration would have to be put on hold.

* * *

“Become my bodyguard.”

_“What?”_

“Wait. You actually don’t have a say in the matter.”

“Again, _what?_ ”

They were walking home from the hospital (Kenma left them), and Kuroo suddenly gave an audacious proposal. “You can stop people from fighting me, and me from fighting them. That way, I fight less, and you’re happier.”

“Since when am I ever happy?”

“Whenever you’re with me and the guys, obviously.”

Tsukishima knew he was going to say that. “Okay, that’s great and everything, but why are you pulling me into your house right now?”

“How are you supposed to be my bodyguard if you’re not with me?”

“ _All_ the time?”

“Yes,” Kuroo stated firmly. It was an obvious excuse to make Tsukishima stay over.

They went upstairs to his room as he pulled out a futon. He seemed to be relieved that his father wasn’t home.

“Shower or bath?” he asked.

“Shower.”

“Then, here’s a towel and a change of clothes.”

Tsukishima felt a flash of heat in his face. “Are these… _your_ clothes?”

“Yeah, why? Does that bother you?” At this point, Kuroo was teasing him somewhat.

Having realized this himself, he said, “Yeah, actually. I’m worried they might be a little small.”

“I’m only shorter than you by less than three centimeters.”

“We could go back and forth all night.”

Kuroo sighed and Tsukishima went to take his shower. Although he was still irritated to a certain degree, he couldn’t help but imagine the blonde in the shower, in _his_ shower, and distracted himself by hand-making countless tuna sushi rolls. He did this without keeping an eye on the clock, so the time during which Tsukishima took his shower felt like about a third of that to him.

“I didn’t know you could do that.” Tsukishima had been standing there for a few minutes, watching his process.

Kuroo barely looked up at him; he was wary of the damp blonde hair and the overall sight of Tsukishima in his clothes. “Because I never told you. I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Well, it worked. What else can you make?”

“From scratch: pork buns, mochi, and shortcake.”

“You said that last one to impress me.”

Kuroo laughed. “No. Even before I knew you liked it, I watched my mother make it. I use her recipe. But that was also supposed to be a surprise.”

“Wait, so did you make the cake you gave me on Christmas?”

“Yeah,” he said nonchalantly. He held out a tuna roll in front of Tsukishima’s mouth. “Say ‘ah’.”

He paled at the prospect of Kuroo feeding him, but he also wanted to try the sushi. He decided to eat it. His expression remained placid, but inside he was in a frenzy. He wanted to eat the entire plate. All he could say was, “I hate you.”

“What? What did I do now?”

“…You were born with God-like hands.”

Kuroo paused. When did Tsukishima ever compliment another human being? Before he could say anything, the latter disappeared. To continue the conversation, he rushed to Tsukisima after taking a shower, but when he reached his room he saw him sleeping on his bed.

“I guess he didn’t want the futon.” He also didn’t want it, so he simply joined Tsukishima in his twin-sized mattress, with their backs turned.

Both of them were wide awake. Normally, Tsukishima wouldn’t even sleep in his mother’s bed, but that night he didn’t want to be on the floor. Aside from escaping the dust bunnies, he wanted the warmth of someone next to him.

“Tetsu,” he said.

“Yeah?”

“Tell me about your past.”

Strangely, Kuroo appreciated how Tsukishima trapped him in the form of a demand. He didn’t ask nervously, he said what he wanted directly. He realized this must have been what was weighing on his mind. He just wanted to know more about him, meanwhile he was doing things like getting himself slashed by a switchblade from some guy whose name he didn't even know. At the time, Kuroo was absorbed in his desire to stop thinking about Tsukishima, so much so that he didn't think about anything else. He almost didn't realize that he was hurting him. How could he, though? Tsukishima liked to act like he was okay when he wasn't.

“…Well, where should I start?” he asked.

“It’s about what you said—years ago, when you asked me if I hated my father enough to kill him. I thought something might have happened in America.”

Kuroo snickered. “ _Now_ you’re interested in it. When we met again, you acted like you didn’t care.”

“I really didn’t. Now I do.” _Too much._

“Let’s see…I don’t want to sugarcoat anything, so I’m going to tell you straight out.” He inhaled and tightly squeezed his hands. “I killed someone.”

“What?”

“Don’t make me repeat it. Please.”

Tsukishima could sense that Kuroo was shaking. It was for the better that their backs were turned. “Did you get charged for murder?”

“It was tried as self-defense. He was my mother’s boyfriend. He didn’t treat her right. I hated him, and he knew that, but one day he snapped and we got into a fight over her. His filthy hands were wrapped around my neck…so I took the nearest kitchen knife. I wasn’t thinking. It was pure instinct. After everything happened, my mother sent me to my dad. Then I met you.”

“So you were eleven?”

“I was.”

“…Do you regret it?”

“Of course I do.”

“Tetsu.”

The way Tsukishima said his name pulled the truth out of him. This is what Kuroo was afraid of. This part. This question. The only reason Tsukishima was doubtful of this answer is that if there was anything he learned about the two of them, it was that they were similar polar opposites. If he were the one in Kuroo’s shoes, it would be difficult for him to regret his actions.

“I didn’t mean to do it. I hated him, and I wanted him gone, but I didn’t want to end his life. It’s just that after it happened, I didn’t feel anything. I didn’t feel remorse. I…I…”

Without looking at him, Tsukishima knew that the pillow was being soaked with saltwater. A part of him felt guilty for making him talk about it, which is why he apologized.

“I don’t know why you’re apologizing. It’s out of your character.”

“I know. But so is making you cry.” The other part of him simply wanted to say, _“I really like you.”_ Instead he continued, “I’m not going to say he deserved it. But he _did_ attack you. You were a child. If anything, you should be commended for turning out the way you did in spite of all that.”

“Well, that’s because I studied. I studied textbooks because I needed a distraction. And when I moved to Tokyo, I met someone who’s now like a dad to me.”

“Who is that?”

“Nekomata Yasufumi. The creator of our gang. We met at a sumo wrestling match. I always tried to fight him, but I couldn’t land a single hit.”

“He sounds lovely.”

“I’ll introduce you two someday. If the old man is still kicking.”

“But what about your biological father? Is there some reason why you avoid him? I mean, I know he had problems before…”

“Man, you’re pulling out all the stops, aren’t you? That man doesn’t look me in the eye sometimes, and I get irritated. It’s like he doesn’t need me there.”

“Oh. Don’t you think he might just be ashamed, though?”

Kuroo sighed. “…I hate you.”

“What? Why?”

“You say the things that I don't want to hear.”

“You’re welcome, then.” Tsukishima realized something, during all this. He realized that he loved listening to Kuroo speak. He loved simply hearing the sound of his voice.

“Turn around,” he said.

He did, and though all he saw was a dark blur, he knew it was Kuroo there, looking straight at him. Kuroo took his hand and held it to his face. Tsukishima could feel the ridges in his face that were his scar. He almost wanted to curse at the world for giving him so many burdens. It angered him.

However, the person himself wasn’t that angry. Because everything that happened led him back to Tsukishima and this moment. And Tsukishima knew that the only thing he could do for him was listen and share the weight of those burdens.

Kuroo pulled him in closer until there was zero proximity between them. They were chest to chest, heart to heart, and foot to foot. “Don’t push me away this time. You brought this on yourself.”

 _Couldn’t even if I wanted to._ Kuroo’s arms around him were so tight that he couldn’t feel his own arms, but he could feel the rapidness of his heartbeat. He could feel  _him_ , and while that frightened him, the electricity it sent through his body left him feeling warm. It was better than feeling cold.

That morning, he woke up before Kuroo. He was able to get sleep, somehow, after that long night. He watched his bedside partner continue to sleep; he saw the puffiness in his eyes, the usual bedhead, and saliva trickling down his mouth. There was nothing particularly alluring about this sight, but it was the first moment ever that he strongly wanted to kiss someone.

He first made sure Kuroo was asleep by pinching him. He didn’t jolt or make a noise. Once he was confirmed sleeping, Tsukishima allowed himself a moment of weakness. He slowly leaned over and encompassed Kuroo’s lips onto his own. The heat and softness of his lips immediately consumed him, and despite his consequent embarrassment, he wanted more.

“I wish I hated your lips,” he muttered, because he knew he didn't.


	13. Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reluctant vacation, an old face, a dream, and a respite in the rain. The song is the one by The Smiths with the name of this chapter (I just realized this is chapter 13 on April 13th...).

“KENMA!”

“What is it now? Did you two work things out?”

“I guess? But that’s not why I just shouted your name.”

“Then why did you just shout my name?”

“Because”—Kuroo took a breath, having ran from his home to Kenma’s—“last night, I dreamt that Kei kissed me.”

Kenma paused, wanting to meddle for a second and raise the possibility that it wasn’t a dream, but he figured that would only create more problems. “Sounds like a great dream,” he said.

“It felt real, though. But I can’t see why he would do that in reality.”

Kenma almost wanted to pull out his hair (this was how he felt internally; externally he remained aloof as usual) at his friend’s cluelessness. “Hopeless...” he mumbled.

Because he believed what transpired was a part of his dream, he thought it was strange when, later that day, he realized Tsukishima was acting like _he_ was the one who had the dream. It was as if he was shying away from him.

The gang, which became increasingly perceptive since Tsukishima joined, noticed the sexual tension whenever they glanced at each other (which they weren’t aware of themselves) and decided to do something about it. They convened and discussed the developments (or lack thereof) of their leader and the newbie (they still called him that, even though it had been a little over half a year since he joined). 

Thus having turned to their friend in Tokyo, Bokuto appeared a few days later with Akaashi and a proposal. “We’re going on a retreat,” he announced, brimming with energy the other three did not have.

“What?” Kuroo said, though he fully heard him.

“I got four passes to this retreat in the mountains. We’re going.” He purposefully left out that it was a couple’s retreat.

“Why?” Tsukishima asked.

“It seems like you two need it. It’s this weekend, so you won’t miss school. I know school is important to you, Tsukki.”

Tsukishima eyed Akaashi as if to say, _“You’re going along with this?”_ but he didn’t know Akaashi was the one who suggested it to Bokuto (for themselves).

Ultimately, there was no way out of it.

* * *

Kuroo began to pick up on the truth about their small vacation when he and Tsukishima were assigned to a room with one large bed. He didn’t call Bokuto out on it yet so as to not frighten Tsukishima away. But if it truly was for couples, then this begged the question: when did Bokuto and Akaashi become a couple?

“We were planning to tell you over dinner,” Akaashi explained to him later when Tsukishima went to bathe in the hot springs and Bokuto went to get snacks.

“You guys kissed first, right? Without any warning, I bet Koutarou just snapped and kissed you,” he said.

Akaashi turned slightly pink. “Basically. Right before we kissed, we were arguing about our futures, because I wanted to go to college.”

“Oh? So he got sulky.”

“Yeah. And he wouldn’t tell me why, so I got upset, but then he told me he didn’t want to say, ‘don’t go’.”

Kuroo snickered. “Who’s been lending him shoujo manga?”

“Don’t laugh,” Akaashi said, and though his own face was holding back a laugh, Kuroo could tell he was content.

Afterwards, when Bokuto arrived, they joined Tsukishima in the bath. What—or who—they didn’t expect to see were two of the snakes. Daishou and Kuguri Naoyasu. Kuroo and Bokuto exchanged glances. “Now this trip is leaving a bad taste in my mouth,” Kuroo goaded, sliding next to Tsukishima in the water in a protective manner.

“What are you doing?” Tsukishima whispered to him; he was drawing his body too close.

“I can’t let you get close to them. You don’t know what they might do.”

He didn’t know how to tell Kuroo that he could feel his lower parts on his skin. He heaved a sigh of relief as Kuroo drew closer to Daishou and Kuguri instead.

“Don’t tell me you guys are dating,” he said to them.

Daishou slanted his eyes more so than usual (Kuroo didn’t think that was possible) and smirked. “Or course not. We’re not _you._ ” He glanced at Tsukishima, Bokuto and Akaashi.

“It’s just that Suguru didn’t know it was a couple’s retreat, despite everything being only for two,” Kuguri revealed.

“Hey!” Daishou yelled, “It’s not like you told me anything, either! And how many times have I told you to call me Suguru- _san_?”

“This is the one-hundredth time you’ve told me, and the one-hundredth time I’m going to tell you that it’s not happening.”

He scoffed. “Cheeky brat.”

Kuroo cleared his throat. “Anyway, I don’t want any trouble this time. Seriously. Koutarou over there is seething and the only reason he hasn’t bashed you in yet is because he’s afraid of slipping.”

“Oi! You said too much!” Bokuto exclaimed.

“Well, it _is_ slippery. And I don’t want trouble either. At least while we’re here.”

Kuroo was wary of Daishou’s wording, but he didn’t have the patience to continue the conversation. He returned to Tsukishima, who’d been frowning for the past few minutes. Kuroo pointed his finger in the middle of his brows. “What’re you making that face for?” As soon as it registered in Tsukishima’s mind that he’d touched and spoken to him, he felt hot everywhere, and it wasn’t because of the hot springs. Kuroo noticed the redness in his face but didn’t understand it. All he did was touch him and ask him a question.

He couldn’t have been _nervous_ , could he?

 

That night, alone in the room, Tsukishima was not sure he wanted to be alive at the moment. It was as if he was reliving puberty. Everything Kuroo did suddenly seemed sensual, even if it was just a yawn. He was so deep within the void of his feelings that he was sure if he saw Kuroo _picking his nose_ it wouldn’t bother him.

What bemused him was how he reached this point in the first place. Before, it was gradual. He revealed something new about himself every time he learned something about Kuroo. He was always slightly more selfish and expressive with him. But when did those dormant feelings become so large?

_“How am I supposed to know that, Tsukki? I still can’t really believe you fell for a boy.”_

“I think I’m the most surprised at myself, Yamaguchi.” Tsukishima needed an outlet, and that outlet was a phone call with his best friend on the other line.

_“Your brother is going to open the gates of Hell. On Kuroo-san.”_

“No, he won’t. He’s not going to know. I don’t even think I’m going to tell Tetsu.”

 _“Why not?”_ Yamaguchi exclaimed. _“I thought he liked you!”_

“He does. I think. But you know me. I...”

_“If you’re going to tell me you’re afraid, I’m going to call you a liar.”_

Tsukishima frowned. “Why?”

_“You tell me almost everything. And from what you’ve told me, it sounds like you two are there already. It’s still hard to believe, though. Also, don’t you always wear that glove?”_

Tsukishima took out the biker glove from his bag. He didn’t realize he always had it with him. He didn’t realize it was always on his hand. “Yamaguchi.”

_“Yeah?”_

“You talk too much.”

_“Yeah, w-well you think too much!”_

Even if his resolve strengthened, he still didn’t know what to say or how to say any of it. But for now, he wanted to sleep.

* * *

_Tsukishima felt Kuroo’s bed below him. He felt strange. It took him a while to realize he was naked, and that Kuroo, who was over him, was also bare. He didn’t understand what was happening until Kuroo began gracing his body with kisses. He started at his feet, and maneuvered up to his lips._

_Tsukishima shuddered as he artfully licked his areas of pleasure. Slowly, Kuroo roughed his body onto Tsukishima’s; teasing him and dragging things out. All with a wicked smile on his face. Slowly, he inserted his fingers into Tsukishima, whose breaths evolved into moans as he grabbed and scratched Kuroo’s arms._

_The gangster flipped his hair back, most likely to see Tsukishima more clearly. “Ouch! I’m making you feel good, and you’re hurting me? We haven’t even reached the good part yet.”_

* * *

Tsukishima shot up, having broken out in a sweat. As soon as he felt that his underwear was wet, he cursed to himself and went to the bathroom.

The next day was full of couple’s activities, in virtue of it being a _couples_ retreat. Tsukishima, reluctant to participate in anything, especially after last night, gave in when Kuroo started to beg.

The first exercise was a trust exercise. There was no doubt of a slight awkwardness between the two, although nothing had explicitly happened between them. Nonetheless, they had no problems with the trust exercise. What they did have a problem with was the three-legged race; even though Kuroo was a fast runner, Tsukishima was slower.

Unexpectedly, Daishou and Kuguri came in first. Akaashi and Kuroo had to hold Bokuto back from fighting Daishou, since they only came a second after them. “At least get me a hit in,” he insisted.

Akaashi squeezed Bokuto’s cheeks to calm him down. He then kissed him without much of a warning. “Akaashi!” he wailed, hugging him tightly. He seemed to understand that the kiss meant “it’s okay.”

“Sorry, PDA is not allowed!” Kuroo complained.

“You’re just jealous,” Bokuto chimed.

Next was a baking competition, and this Kuroo and Tsukishima were confident they would win, especially if there was prize money involved. On the panel of judges, there was a familiar elderly man’s face. Kuroo stopped and stared at him in disbelief. He had the same cat-like features, though his hair was grayer and he gained some weight.

“I see you’re still alive, old man,” Kuroo finally said.

Nekomata Yasufumi looked up at him in surprise and frowned. “What are ya doing in a place like this, Tetsurou?”

“I could ask you the same thing! Are you that bored?”

Nekomata looked at the cast of characters in the competition, catching the attention of Nohebi. They stared fervently at him. He sighed and noticed Tsukishima, who had actually been trying to make his presence as scarce as possible. He turned back to Kuroo. “Is the blonde your boyfriend or something?”

He whispered, “Well, just between you and me, I want him to be.”

Nekomata laughed. “What happened to you, boy? If you were your old self, he would either be yours or would have run off by now.”

Kuroo nodded towards Tsukishima and smiled. “ _He_ happened.”

“Ha. I see.”

Kuroo returned to Tsukishima’s side, and the competition began. When he realized that the main ingredient was strawberries, he didn’t have to ask Tsukishima what to make. Somehow, he liked that he knew already. He liked that they didn’t have to say much to understand each other. And from the first (technically second) time they met, he felt that neither of them really changed from the actual first time.

Since then, they’ve been through more than he realized. When he confessed his feelings from the get-go, he thought Tsukishima was either going to be creeped out or ignore him, but he did neither. He simply said, “Okay.” It was neither an acceptance nor a rejection, and that’s what made it difficult for him. Since Christmas, however, he felt that something was different.

“Tetsu? We’re done. What are you looking at?” Tsukishima’s smooth, murky voice pulled him out from the depths of his thoughts.

“The past,” he answered.

Tsukishima snickered. “What’s that mean? ...Then, did you not hear that we won?”

“We did?!” He turned to Nekomata. “Did we?”

“Do you see anyone else here? The hell were you thinking about that made you not realize what was going on?”

“He said ‘the past,’ but I don’t really understand. He’s like that sometimes.”

“Instead of fighting all the time, maybe you two should open a bakery,” Nekomata said.

Kuroo frowned. “I know you’re joking, old man. I have to settle the score.”

“Then go. I won’t stop you. Just don’t get yourself killed.”

“I would heed your warning, but those snakes aren’t like that.” He realized he said this only to reassure himself, because he knew one of them shot Kenma and he knew they meant business.

“Hmm. If you say so.”

Kuroo and Tsukishima walked off with their prize money. When they reached the exit, there were two indignant couples with the leftovers of their deserts, and as soon as the two stepped outside, those deserts were thrown straight at them.

“That’s what you get!” Daishou shouted. “Who told you to win?”

“I expected this from you, Daishou, but really, Koutarou? I thought Akaashi would smack sense into you, but I guess not,” Kuroo said as he wiped the icing off his and Tsukishima’s faces.

“Stop touching my face. I’m fine,” he said.

“Listen, Kei. I know you love this shortcake but we’ve got to pay them back. Ten fold.”

He was hesitant, but also competitive. “Alright.”

For the rest of that day, it was an actual cake war. During that time, the six of them were somehow able to forget about their gangs and problems and inevitable futures. They, like ten-year-old kids, were able to have fun.

* * *

“So Akaashi-san and Bokuto-san _are_ dating.”

“Yeah. Koutarou seemed pretty sad that Akaashi told me beforehand, though.”

“He’s too sensitive.”

Kuroo shrugged. “It’s a part of his charm.” The two were on the last train for the night, heading back home. Kuroo, in his fatigue, rested his head on Tsukishima’s shoulder. He felt the latter twitch.

“You could have asked first,” he said.

“Sorry...too tired...”

When they returned to the base, the gang seemed to be looking at them expectantly. “So?” Yaku asked, as the voice of the group.

“So, what?” Kuroo said.

“You’re not... _what_?” Confused, Yaku looked to the rest.

“Just what did you guys do there?” Kenma asked.

“Well, we ran into the snakes, but nothing happened. There was a lot of cake. It was fun,” he explained.

Tora shouted to the ceiling. “I’ve had it! You two, go out and buy snacks or something! Figure it out!”

Just like that, they were forced to leave after they’d just returned. They bought everyone’s snacks in silence. In their minds, they actually thanked Tora for creating this chance. As they walked back, it began to rain. The clouds gathered and a drizzle started. It wasn’t long before it turned into a downpour.

“Let’s go under the bus stop and wait for it to slow down,” Kuroo suggested.

Tsukishima followed him. There was so much that he wanted to say, but the words were lost. “You know,” he began, “I feel like there’s something I need to thank you for, but I don’t know what it is.”

Kuroo laughed. “That’s weird.”

“Not as weird as you.”

“True. But I know exactly what I want to say to you.” Kuroo turned to him, and time slowed. Tsukishima didn’t realize Kuroo took his hands until he kissed them. “I love you,” he said. The way he said it was so gentle that Tsukishima almost couldn’t hear him.

“...What am I supposed to say to that?” he asked.

“I don’t know, maybe tell me whether you feel the same?”

Tsukishima lowered his head. “You know already that my father was abusive. It’s why my brother became a cop. I’m always scared that I’m like him. Whenever I see you hurt, I want to get back at whoever did it. Whenever you protected me, I got upset because I didn’t need that from you. Even when we were kids...”

“What are you trying to say?”

He didn't know. His emotions were surfacing, and he couldn't control them. His fear of becoming someone like his father had somehow channeled into his desire to care for and stand next to Kuroo, because he was special to him. And even though he didn't know how to do that, he felt like he had been doing it already. It was only Kuroo who made him feel this way, and though he didn't ask to fall for a boy, he wouldn't ever ask for anything different. He wouldn't ever want to not have felt something for him; for his half-lidded eyes and his long eyelashes and his untrustworthy smile but wholehearted character.

He said, red in his entire face, “That you should already know how I feel.”

Kuroo was stunned. That moment felt similar to when he learned he could actually graduate from high school, but with more relief and less burden. “What...” he started.

“Ken-san told me you think that kiss was a dream. It wasn’t.”

“It wasn’t a dream?”

“What? You don’t believe me? I’m already this upset at you.” Tsukishima grabbed Kuroo by his jacket collar and pulled him in so that the kiss would reflect his frustration. “You don’t know what I’ve been going through all this time.”

Kuroo almost laughed. Tsukishima just kissed him. It was clumsy, but he was clumsier. “ _You?_ What are you talking about? This whole time, _I_ had feelings for you!”

“I know that. I know...” Tsukishima was trying to hold back the water from his eyes, the lump in his throat. The rain cried for him. “I never actually forgot it. But, right now, why don’t you look happy at all?”

Kuroo didn’t realize he wasn’t smiling. The past ten minutes have been a whirlwind for him, even though it was only raining. His shock had taken over every other emotion, but as soon as he saw Tsukishima near to tears before him, he realized how stupid he was being. He embraced him and sunk his face into the bend of his neck. “I am happy. You don’t know how happy you’ve made me.”

“Exactly. You don’t,” Tsukishima said, implying that Kuroo made him feel that same way, though it didn’t often show on his face. It instead welled up in his heart. Like the rain that day, it poured from the clouds.


	14. Playing with Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back on the motorcycle, lots of kissing, a date and intimacy (though, in this story, these two are almost always intimate, tbh). Also, the crow parents return.

“Wait, so, are we…uh, _dating_?”

They were still underneath the bus stop, and it was still raining. Kuroo looked at Tsukishima, confused. They were still holding hands. “What else would we do? I want to be with you,” he said.

“Oh. I see.” Tsukishima looked down at the ground.

Kuroo let go of his hands and held his waist. “…You’re going to hate me for saying this, but that side of you is pretty cute.”

Differently from what he feared, Tsukishima wasn’t violent. However, he was close to throwing Kuroo over and pinning him on the floor for what he just uttered. He was a mood-killer.

Kuroo realized this and said, “See? Look at your face. You look like you want to throw me over. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Then…why are you getting closer?” Tsukishima asked, as his face was drawing closer.

“If you think about it, we haven’t had a proper kiss yet.”

“Wha—” As if this time was different from the other times, Tsukishima felt something akin to electricity run within him as they kissed. Just as he thought the one, gentle kiss was going to be the end of it, Kuroo didn’t stop. They began feeling the heat from it all, from their skin and lips. Kuroo held Tsukishima tightly, whose fingers ran through his dark hair. He slipped his tongue in Tsukishima’s mouth, and was glad that he didn’t back away.

Upon realizing that Tsukishima had to catch his breath, he let go. The blonde looked at him with wide eyes, almost wider than his narrow glasses. “And…that was a ‘proper’ kiss?” he said, with a dash of sarcasm.

The rain was letting up. Kuroo picked up the groceries they bought. “Oh, shut up.” He paused and held out his hand. “Let’s go back.”

Tsukishima took it. He didn’t ask why they were doing this; he just figured it was something couples did, regardless of gender.

“Kei, if we’re really going to do this, then there’s something I need you to understand.” Kuroo’s words were sudden and demanding.

“What?”

“I’m a gangster.”

“I know that.” What could he possibly be trying to get at?

“I know you know. But I need you to understand that I’m going to get hurt. I’m a fighter. It’s what I do. If I come out unscathed, then it’s not a fight.”

“…Okay.” He was beginning to realize the painful truth.

“I don’t want you to worry.”

“Okay.” It was all Tsukishima could say. He wasn’t sure he could guarantee not worrying, but he was sure of Kuroo’s strength.

“It’ll take an army to bring me down!” he exclaimed. “I’ll be fine. I promise.”

“…Right. You sure think highly of yourself, don’t you?” mocked Tsukishima. Something told him, though, that this promise of his wouldn’t hold. When did they ever?

Kuroo replied, “I do. I don’t know how, but I was even able to make an aloof _megane-kun_ like yourself fall for me. That says a lot.”

Tsukishima shot him a warning smile. “Hmm. Keep talking like that, and this _megane-kun_ will pretend as if this all never happened.” He was probably the only one who could intimidate Kuroo with a smile.

 

They returned to the base. They forgot that they were still holding hands, so when the others went to take the groceries, they saw the proof they needed. Tora spoke up first. “Banchou has a boyfriend,” he chirped.

They immediately let go, out of embarrassment. “Tora, there was no need to call them out on it,” Kenma said.

“Yeah, and,” Yaku began, pointing at the two of them, “when did this even become a thing? We all felt a connection and were surprised. We thought you were just friends.”

“We can be both.” Tsukishima said. He hadn’t expected to say anything like that.

“Are you guys okay with this, at least?” Kuroo asked.

“Well, it’s a lot better that you let us know now, rather than hiding it like a certain two,” Inuoka said.

“Are you trying to steal our thunder?!” Lev exclaimed.

Yaku held the bridge of his nose. “What is there to steal? You idiot…Just let them be happy.”

Suddenly, Kai and Yaku walked closer to them. Without warning, they patted Kuroo and Tsukishima on their backs, harder than usual. To them, this was the equivalent of a hug. The two of them had wanted, for a while, someone who would make Kuroo happy.

“Ouch! That wasn’t like you two at all,” Kuroo said.

“We’re just…” Kai began. He and Yaku were by Kuroo’s side—not longer than Kenma but long enough to know him and to know what he’s been through. “Really happy.”

 

To celebrate, they took their motorcycles and went out for a ride. When Kuroo said he would pay for dinner, they all jumped up like animals. “Are you sure about this, Tetsu? These guys will go crazy.” Tsukishima asked him as he hopped on his motorcycle with him.

“It’s fine. I owe ‘em a lot.” Kuroo turned around. “Don’t forget to hold on.”

It hasn’t been that long since Tsukishima last rode along with Kuroo, but as he wrapped his arms around his waist, it felt different. As he started the engine and drove in the front, Tsukishima felt the night breeze and the pounding of his heart against Kuroo’s back. He almost wanted him to continue driving forever.

When they reached the restaurant, Kuroo told the others to go on ahead. He helped Tsukishima off his motorcycle and swiftly pulled him closer. Without the need for words, the blonde knew what Kuroo wanted. His eyes were locked on his rosy lips.

He drew in slowly, though the beating of Tsukishima's heart only increased. There was no longer a wrench there when he thought about Kuroo. As he felt the sensual kissing all throughout his body, he realized he felt lighter. It sounded cliché to him, but it was as if they were the only ones on the street that night, taking in everything of each other.

Kuroo breathed into Tsukishima's neck and kissed his light skin. He smiled softly. “God,” he breathed, “I lo—”

Tsukishima held a finger to his lips to prevent him from continuing. “I know already,” he said.

Kuroo smiled again.

“Oi! Whenever he's done proposing, come inside! We're waiting for you!” Yaku called from the entrance.

For the first time that Tsukishima saw, Kuroo turned pink. “Yaku, you bastard! Leave us alone!” The ever-smirking gangster charged at his friend in embarrassment.

Kuroo and Tsukishima decided to share a meal. When it was time to order, the person who came to them was someone they hadn't seen in a while.

“I know Miyagi isn't this fucking small. Sawamura.”

Daichi looked at Kuroo and the gang and at first pretended not to see them, but he couldn't escape the eight stares. “What do you want?” he asked them coolly.

They purposefully took a while to order, just to irritate him because wasn't being his usual friendly self. He was normally on edge when dealing with Nekoma since they were always causing trouble, but this time Kuroo felt something was off. He didn't bother asking him, though.

While they waited, they talked about how none of them realized that it was Valentine's Day until they saw the specials on the restaurant menu. Kuroo and Tsukishima exchanged glances.

They somehow conversed with their expressions:

T: _I know what you're thinking._

K: _Oh? And what is that?_

T: _You want to celebrate, even though it's nine pm and the day is over._

K: _OK. Fine, you do know. But the night is still young._

T: _And so is this relationship that hasn't even lasted for a day yet. After this, I'm going to sleep._

Kuroo sighed. Instead of brooding, he thought about White Day instead. It was a month away, but time seemed to flow quicker when the two were together.

“Are you two doing anything?” Kai asked Yaku and Lev.

“Nah,” Yaku answered, “Lev's Christmas present was all I needed.”

The lanky boy turned like a tomato. “Don't egg them on, Yaku-san,” Lev said.

“Oh yeah. What was that about?” Tora asked.

“It’s too late…” Lev sighed.

Yaku realized what he’d done, and drank water to cool himself off. “Never mind. Forget it. It’s private.”

The gang collectively scoffed because they wanted to know, but Yaku would only say it over his dead body. How was he supposed to tell them that for Christmas, Lev dressed up as a policeman and even got him handcuffed in bed?

He wasn’t.

 

That night, Tsukishima slept over at Kuroo’s, but the former was serious about going to sleep. Despite the long day they had, Kuroo had trouble sleeping. There were so many things he had been wanting to do with him and _to_ him, and now he finally could. Due to his boredom, he squeezed the sleeping boy’s cheeks and removed his glasses that he forgot to take off before going to bed. Kuroo rested his head on his chest, and somehow, it calmed him down.

The next night at Tsukishima’s was more chaotic because they were kissing when they fell on his bed. It was the mood and the fervent energy that caused them to strip their clothes. Tsukishima realized what was happening and stopped him.

“Not yet?” Kuroo asked, reading his mind.

“Yeah,” he said. He was looking at Kuroo’s light caramel skin, without a shirt or pants, his muscle and abs. This all certainly made his inner self scream, but he wasn’t so sure he wanted to take him in yet.

Instead they lay in the bed skin-to-skin. Kuroo felt the urge to tickle him and remembered that his sensitive spots were in his neck and feet. The victim burst into laughter. “What are you—stop it—” Tsukishima couldn’t fight back because Kuroo’s touch made him feel more than ticklish.

Afterwards, he was upset and didn’t talk. Kuroo apologized multiple times but he didn’t forgive him until he said he would make dinosaur-shaped pancakes tomorrow morning. Having said it on the spur of the moment, he had no idea how that was going to happen. Did they even sell dinosaur-shaped cutters?

Tsukishima knew his mother was coming home late, so he texted her and asked if she could bring one home because Kuroo was going to make food for him.

She replied with: _What am I, your secretary? Lol_

* * *

When White Day arrived, it took a while for them to realize they’d been in a relationship for a month. It still felt as if the rainy evening under the bus stop was not that long ago. But they knew about their distorted sense of time.

“Where are we going?” Tsukishima asked Kuroo. They had just finished getting dressed.

“I thought we could go to that place we couldn’t go to before, since you were sick.”

“That place…the planetarium?” It didn’t show on his face, but he was looking forward to it.

Kuroo nodded. “You sound excited. Oh, that’s right, didn’t you want to be the first man on Mars or something?” he teased.

“No, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“…You know, I thought you wouldn’t want to do anything for today. I know you don’t like these kinds of things.”

As they headed out to leave, Tsukishima almost accidentally put Kuroo’s leather jacket on. He pretended like it didn’t happen and replied, “You’re right, I don’t. But last month, I didn’t let you do anything, so…”

“I see. By the way, you can wear it.” Of course, Kuroo noticed.

“What?”

“My jacket.”

Without admitting to anything, he slipped the jacket on. More than it making him feel like a badass, since it had Kuroo’s scent it made him feel something else.

“It looks good on you,” he said. His ears had turned red.

 

As soon as they walked in, they felt like they were in space. They’d read up about the big bang, supernovas and even watched them under the dome. They went to the gift shop about three times because Kuroo couldn’t figure out what he wanted to buy. They were reading up about Mars when it happened. When Tsukishima lost him.

He hasn’t ever panicked since Kuroo kissed him for the first time. They were just together; how could he have disappeared? “Tetsu,” he said. He repeated it, louder. He couldn’t call him because he was holding onto his phone.

He stood underneath Mars and waited for him for about fifteen minutes before he saw a leather glove waving at him. “Sorry,” he said, “I saw this girl wearing a Hogwarts shirt and instinctively went to ask her where she got it from.”

Part of him stayed upset, and another part asked him, “So? What did she say?”

Kuroo snickered. “I knew you’d say that.”

“Shut up. I’m mad. You left me.”

“…Were you worried?”

“What do you think? I thought you got kidnapped or something.”

“Kidnapped? Me?”

“Now I feel like an idiot.”

Kuroo’s gloved hand took Tsukishima’s gloved hand. Whether they realized this or not, they always held hands this way. “No, don’t. It’s my fault. But this way, you shouldn’t lose me. Let’s go back to the gift shop. There’s one last thing I want to get.”

When they went back in the gift shop, they tried to ignore the staring (it was their fourth time there). Kuroo held in his hands a portable planetarium.

 

That night, they tested it out. In Kuroo’s dark room, the small lights that represented stars scattered around the walls, the ceiling and the furniture. It set up a dangerous atmosphere. They looked at each other, lights reflected in their eyes. Tsukishima made a small gesture that brought Kuroo over to him and suddenly they were kissing, consuming, desiring. That night it was cold, and even though they were bare, it was heated between them.

Kuroo set himself on top of Tsukishima and gently yet roughly grinded him. Before he put himself inside him, he mentally photographed the beet red, without-glasses blonde who helplessly wanted him. Deeply, immensely, they wanted each other. And since all Tsukishima could see was Kuroo's face, he lifted his arms and reached out his hands and traced the scar on his face.

A few days ago, they had an argument. Tsukishima couldn't help but feel that in being together they were playing with fire, and Kuroo told him he didn't care about any of that. He said all that mattered was how they felt about each other.

 _“Something is bound to go wrong...and why do you keep wanting to have sex? I'm not...my body is...”_ Tsukishima couldn't get his feelings out.

Kuroo still understood him. _“Beautiful,”_ he'd finished. _“Don't you dare say anything else.”_

His whole face had burned. _“What are you saying?”_

 _“I want you,”_ he stated bluntly. _“And I'm not going to easily let our separate backgrounds get in the way of this. What about you? Do you want me?”_

That night, when they had sex, Tsukishima realized what he wanted to thank Kuroo for last month. He wanted to thank him for being in that forest years ago, and being on that roof months ago. But he was sure he didn't have to tell him anymore.

* * *

The next day, at the base, the two arrived to see a familiar face playing poker with the rest. “Sawamura? What're you doing here? The next meeting isn't until April.” Kuroo said to him.

“I know.” There was a darkness and a glow in Daichi's eyes. Kuroo didn't know what to make of it. “I'm not here for that. I should have told you last month, but the truth is, we need your help. Suga...is missing.”


	15. Silver is a Color, Too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I actually updated in a week for once.  
> Anyway, this chapter is all about Daichi and Suga. I actually didn't intend to go so deep into their story, but this chapter ended up being pretty long. **I'm warning you now, this chapter is heavy and there is rape, though it's implied and not explicit. I'm not going to explain it here, so you'll just have to read to get the whole story.  
> For the purposes of this chapter, I created an oc. Feel free to hate him.  
> The song is "Run" by Snow Patrol.

Kuroo seemed to be able to ignore his differences with Daichi and address the problem. All of them could see the sleepless nights and the pain in his eyes. “Missing? For over a month? That doesn’t sound good. Seriously.”

“When did he first disappear?” Tsukishima asked.

“About a week before I met you guys at my job. We kind of had a fight that morning, and even though we slept at our place like usual, the next morning he was gone. He must have left in the middle of the night,” Daichi explained.

Kuroo got closer to him. “You know what I’m going to ask next, right?”

He sighed. “Yeah. Well, before the fight, he’d been coming home late and I got worried. I even…suspected him of being with someone else. So, we ended up arguing.”

“Wait, so you know this is basically your fault, right?” Yaku said to him.

Lev whispered to him saying that was harsh, but Daichi agreed. “You’re right. I drove him away. That’s why I thought it would be a good idea to give him his space, but it’s been too long. I came to this neighborhood to see if this is where he went. I don’t want to think about what could happen to him…”

Kuroo turned to the gang. “Looks like we’re going to investigate,” he said.

They traveled and asked around in silence because Tsukishima held Kuroo’s hand and the latter was too nervous to think. The only word that could get Daichi’s attention was Suga’s name. Kuroo finally asked him, “Don’t you know where Suga could be? You’ve been together long enough to know his favorite places.”

Daichi sat back and looked outside the train window. He had already checked the places that first came to mind. In recalling his favorite places, he ended up recalling everything that led them up to this point.

* * *

They weren’t joined at the hip, but Daichi and Suga were close enough for others to expect one with the other. Whenever one was absent from school, for any reason, their peers would ask, “Hey, where’s Daichi?” or “Hey, what happened to Sugawara?” as if they were supposed to know. The thing is, they did know. Always.

They weren’t childhood friends. Neither of them had noticed the other until they came late to school one day, and as punishment, got stuck with clean-up duty after school. It was winter at that time, but Daichi was somewhat immune to the cold, so he could show up to school without a coat. Suga would later tell him that, due to this, his first impression of him as they rushed to class that winter morning was that he was insane. He figured he would lose his sanity as well if he stayed near him, so he tried to escape after school.

But Daichi stopped him. He was slightly taller, more built, with shaggy hair and threatening eyes. “What are you doing? We have a job,” he reasoned.

Suga didn't know where to look, since he couldn't look at his intimidating eyes. He decided to look at the top of his head instead. He was surprised to see that someone like him cared about his responsibilities, despite looking as if he couldn't care less. “You're right,” he said. He turned and took the broom.

He looked back at Daichi, who smiled, and he saw that everything he assumed about him was probably wrong. “I don't think I'm that scary,” he said, scratching the back of his head.

 _Is he embarrassed?_ Suga thought. _No way._ “It wasn't just that,” he clarified. “Sorry if this sounds rude, but are you human?”

Daichi seemed more amused than offended. “What makes you say that?”

“You walked in without a coat and only your uniform. How is that possible in this weather?”

“Oh. Well, I was born in Hokkaido, so compared to there, this is quite warm.”

Suga sighed of relief. “That's such a normal answer.”

“Sorry I'm normal,” Daichi said, taking it the wrong way.

Suga found himself feeling flustered because he was nearly pouting. “No! It's good that's what it was. I was concerned.”

“Concerned? You don't even know me.”

Suga realized that he was right. He knew nothing at all about this boy who had been in his class since school started in April. He knew nothing, not even his name, and yet he was talking to him normally, like he wanted to know more. “Do you know me?” he asked him.

He pointed to the corner of the blackboard where their names for cleaning duty were written. “I know your name is Sugawara Koushi.”

Part of Suga's heart raced because of Daichi noticing the little things, and that he seemed so gentle despite his appearance. “So you're Sawamura Daichi?”

“Yeah...”

Suga snickered. “Why are you embarrassed?”

“...I'm not.” Daichi turned away and started erasing the blackboard.

“You are, though. I’m a genius at reading people.”

He was, and he himself knew this. He was just being stubborn because he didn't want Suga to figure out that he thought he was handsome. And because he was entranced by his silver hair and brown eyes and mole as soon as he walked past him that morning, he had no idea how to act.

Luckily for him, for the next five minutes or so they cleaned in silence. But Suga just had to break that silence. "How come neither of us knew each other before today?" he asked.

“I don't know. Maybe we walk in different circles?”

“That's a strange way of saying we're completely different people.”

Since they were bound to get there at some point, Daichi explained to him, “For one thing, I'm a gang leader. And almost everyone knows this, so they don't approach me.”

He didn't understand why Suga looked at him no differently; why his eyes had finally met his own and believed every word he said. All he said was, “I see.”

“That's it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You're acting like I just told you the weather.”

“I heard you properly. It's just, that doesn't change anything. I'm sure that's not all you are. Besides, my...friend is a gang leader too.”

“Oh.” He was curious, but he knew they weren't close enough for him to ask that and get an answer.

When they finished cleaning, they left together and stopped by a _konbini_ for pork buns. Daichi wasn't good with hot things, but he enjoyed seeing Suga with them.

 

Somehow, as if it was meant to be, they were everything but uncomfortable with each other. The looks of concern Suga received for being around Daichi only made him want to be together more. He met Daichi's friend Asahi, but it took him time to get used to him. He looked more dangerous than Daichi, but he was even nicer.

Because their grades were off the charts horrible, Suga offered to help them. They went to Daichi's home to study, and there he learned that he repaired and washed motorcycles as a side job. He'd said he was saving up for college, but he and his family deemed it unlikely that he'd go.

“You can do it if you try,” Suga told him with a smile. “That is, if a miracle happens.”

Daichi pinched his cheeks and said, "You're a little wisecracker, aren't you?”

“Ow, ow, ow! It hurts, Daichi! Aren't you forgetting that you're ridiculously strong?”

“You're just weak, Suga,” Asahi said.

“Exactly. Which is why I don't understand why you want to join our gang,” Daichi added.

“But, I—”

“I don't want you to get hurt,” he stated honestly.

“I don't care about that. I just don't like not knowing a side of you that others do. How am I your friend if I don't know about an important part of you?”

Daichi fell silent. How was he supposed to reply to that? “Fine. Don't come crying to me if you get hurt.”

Suga leered at him. “You're trying to act tough,” he chirped.

Another thing Daichi couldn't understand was how Suga understood him so well. That part of him alone rattled his heart.

 

It was a gang. It was just that four of them were the only ones in high school—including a beautiful girl with glasses and a mole—and the others were all younger. One of them had a shaved head, and another was short enough to be mistaken for an elementary school kid. His mohawk added to his height.

To Daichi's surprise, Suga quickly found his place and the others had no problem being themselves with him. He was simply that kind of person. The moniker “Suga-san” became a normal thing for them.

However, there was a certain anxiety within Daichi's heart.

“Daichi, I feel like you're jealous.” Suga called him out on it as easily as buttering toast.

“W-what?”

“Or, really, that's what Asahi said it probably was when I asked him.”

“Well, it's just that calling you Suga was my thing...”

Suga didn't make his usual wisecracking response. He stood still, almost frozen, and Daichi couldn't tell whether he was happy, upset, or in between. He would later learn that it was the third guess.

* * *

When his older brother returned home after disappearing for a few weeks, Daichi pretended not to see him. He went on with his morning, and didn’t make eye contact with Masa, a bad omen, despite feeling his ice-like stare.

With Suga, it was different. He made sure to look in his eyes whenever he wanted to say something to him. During lunch, they’d go to the empty art club room. This became their hangout spot when Suga learned that one of Daichi’s many hobbies was painting. He loved the myriad of colors and the smell of acrylic.

He and Suga were lying on the floor. It wasn’t entirely clean, but neither of them cared. Suga noticed his friend was holding something in, possibly frustration.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” he asked.

Daichi sighed and rested his head closer to Suga’s. “My half-brother came home today. You know, I used to admire him. He was smart, athletic, and loved. But now he’s like this foreign part of my life and I don’t know what to do. Maybe it’s because his mother abandoned him, so he got stuck with us? I don’t get it…”

He didn’t realize that he was nearly kissing Suga’s neck, but the latter did. He stroked his dark hair as he slowly separated from him. “Sorry,” he began, but didn’t finish.

Like this, they breezed through the beginning of their sophomore year. The gang got two new members, Kageyama and Hinata, who brought new colors—and loudness—to the group. Suga and Daichi were in the same class again, but this time their peers became more social around Daichi. He knew it was because of Suga; that he brought out the kinder and happier side of him that he only sometimes revealed to the gang.

Suga met Kuroo, someone whom Daichi knew for a while and couldn’t stand. He appreciated him, though, because he brought out his sarcastic and comical side. However, with knowing Nekoma came knowing Nohebi, and Karasuno quickly got pulled into their mess.

They fought due to a territorial dispute, which was the normal pretense for Nohebi simply wanting to fight them. Daichi implored Suga to stay away and not get involved, but he refused, even though all he knew was the German suplex. He escaped critical condition because of his instincts, but the ends of his silver hair had started to turn red, he couldn’t see through one of his eyes, and he couldn’t walk at the end.

Daichi was so upset that he didn’t talk to Suga afterwards for a few days, until Kiyoko talked him out of it. In the meantime, Suga had visited the _konbini_ he was a regular at, turning to snacks for comfort. The cashier, Ukai, noticed his terrible physical state and said, “Was it a fight?”

“What?”

“That messed you up like this.”

“Oh, yeah. I was a little ahead of myself.”

“I see. Then, do you want this?” He held out a pair of numb chucks. “Since you’re a regular, I know you pretty well. Instead of your fists, a weapon like this suits you. Think of it as a gift for coming to this shabby shop all the time. I can teach you how to use it.”

Suga wasn’t hesitant. He accepted the strange gift. “Thanks.” The two pieces attached to a chain felt right in his hands.

Later, as he left the shop for the day, there was a figure in front of it. He was bending down with a stick in his hand, playing with ants. As Suga approached him, he looked up. His face brightened. “Suga,” he said, standing.

“Daichi.”

“Are…are you okay?”

Suga frowned. “Does it look like that?”

“No. No, it doesn’t. I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For not talking to you, even though it was the one thing I should have done. I should have said, ‘You did well’ or something. But I was just mad at myself for not protecting you.”

Suga saw the pain in Daichi’s face. He didn’t want to see it, so he pinched his cheeks. “It’s okay. You should smile.”

Daichi held his hands and pulled him in to embrace him. He held him tightly, but Suga pushed him away. It was sudden and unexpected, and this time Suga’s face was pained. “Don’t do it, Daichi. Don’t.”

“I don’t understand.”

The next four words were like a guillotine that split his heart. “I…have a boyfriend.”

“You…have a _boyfriend_?” he repeated. He had to make sure it wasn’t a bad nightmare. “Wait, who? Since when? Why are you even telling me this right now? No, why have you never told me about this before?” he shouted.

“Isn’t it obvious?! I didn’t want to hurt you! Just look at yourself! You’re about to collapse.”

“Suga, I think _you_ should look into the glass behind you. You’re already crying.” Daichi knew that’s how he was. More than himself, he worried about others. He cared for others. It was his strongest weakness.

Just then, another figure came rushing to Suga’s side from up the hill. “Koushi!” he exclaimed and threw himself on him. He had long dark hair and wore a long jacket. His eyes were narrow and scheming. They were the eyes Daichi had always wanted to punch in. They were the eyes that belonged to the man who provoked him into becoming a gang leader by saying that he could never be one like him. They were the eyes that belonged to his brother. The only man he truly hated.

“Suga, you’re telling me that this fucker is your boyfriend?” he muttered. Masa looked down at him coldly.

Even Suga was surprised. “Is he your brother?”

“You could say that.”

He turned to Masa, who seemed to be enjoying the situation. “You said you were an only child.”

“Oh, did I? Sorry,” he chimed. “Anyway, let’s go. We’ll miss the movie.”

Suga turned to Daichi. “But…”

“Just go,” he said, gritting his teeth.

Masa pulled Suga away. He didn’t tell them to go because he saw the way Suga looked at him or because he wanted to be the bigger man. No. He let them go because he didn’t want to look at him or Suga to see him beat his brother half to death.

 

Almost religiously, Daichi told himself that Suga was happy. He thought it, breathed it and slept on it. He had no other choice.

“But you do have a choice,” Kiyoko told him a few days later.

“What choice is that?”

“The choice of continuing to harbor feelings for him or not.”

Daichi shook his head. “No,” he croaked. “I can’t do it. Suga is…the only person…I can’t let him go to Masa. If it were you or Asahi or even Hinata, I could bear it. But not him.”

“But…what can you do about it? He’s not yours.”

“For now, I’ll watch him. First and foremost, he’s my best friend.”

“That’s true. I think you can do that.”

“Really?” Daichi smiled, as if what he suggested was a joke to him. Kiyoko saw the sorrow in his face. “Because I don’t.”

Nonetheless, he did it anyway. He watched them and asked Suga questions, but tried not to pry too much. He learned that they met before school started when Masa saved him from getting mugged. The main thing that drew them together was their love for books, and Daichi knew this was true about his brother.

Masa often slept over at Suga’s home, which is why he wasn’t at his actual home.

Suga had also wanted to join Masa’s gang, but the latter gave him the same reasoning as Daichi did. Hearing that left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Daichi wondered if the Masa whom Suga saw was the same one he did; if his brother was just putting up a front. But he didn’t see anything from him that proved it.

Until that night in September.

He’d been with the gang after school, so Daichi came home late. Suga wasn’t with the gang that day because he said he had a “prior engagement.” Daichi knew what that meant. When he arrived home, it was dark, so his parents must have been working late. It was dark, but not empty. He heard soft noises coming from his brother’s room that gradually grew louder as he stepped closer. He at first thought he’d heard incorrectly, because the sounds were akin to moans.

He hesitated to go closer, but his legs disobeyed his rationale. He realized that what he thought were moans were not.

They were screams.

His heartbeat, instead of stopping, increased rapidly. His entire body began to sweat and shake. He prayed that what he thought was happening wasn’t happening. He prayed that everything was alright. He gripped his cellphone in his hand. He held his ear closer to the door and as soon as he heard the words “No” and “Stop,” he kicked the door open.

The whole room stopped. His brother stopped, Suga stopped, time stopped. They both had expressions of terror, but Daichi knew they were two different kinds. He knew what just happened. He would not tolerate it. He would not allow it.

He would kill him.

“Daichi…” Suga breathed.

Daichi steadily approached Masa as he spoke to Suga. “Don’t talk, Suga. Close your eyes. Rest. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” He never took his glare off him. “Bastard,” he muttered. “Step away from him. And pull up your pants.”

As he had no other choice, Masa did as Daichi said. “Do you realize what you were just doing?” he asked. He tried to sound as sane as possible, but he hadn’t been that infuriated ever before.

Masa didn’t say anything, so he continued. “Did you not see the tears in his eyes? Did you not hear his screaming? Did you not hear him say ‘no’? Or are you blind and deaf?”

Still, nothing.

“I thought you loved him,” he said.

Finally, Masa started, “I do—”

“You had your chances to speak. If you loved him, you could be blind _and_ deaf and know what means yes and what means no.”

He tried to explain himself, “I just wanted him to want me. To love me. Recently, he hasn’t even looked at me in the eyes—” But Daichi slammed his face against the floor and elbowed his stomach in. As he’d wanted to do, he gave both of Masa’s eyes black eyes. His body was numb with rage, but he called the police and tried to sound like he wasn’t about to commit murder.

“Daichi…he’s alive, right?” Suga asked, though his voice could only go so high.

“Probably. But I don’t give a shit. Neither should you, I would say, but I know how you are. Also, I told you to rest.”

“When you’re angry, I don’t like you as much as I thought I would.”

“…Why?”

“Because you start swearing. And…because it’s always over me.”

“But you already know why, don’t you?”

“I do.”

Daichi knelt beside the bed and rested his head. He didn’t touch Suga. He simply stared at him, who was staring at the ceiling, probably imagining it as outer space. It was something he did when he wanted to relax.

Daichi didn’t realize his eyes had filled with tears until Suga said, crying himself, “You’re crying.”

“Don’t state the obvious. And so are you.”

In that moment, Daichi came to realize that Suga was a lot of things; a lot of colors. He was wild and reckless, but he was also very sweet and gentle. He was subconsciously charming and was quick to stop a fight even without the skills or strength. He had an outlandish sense of humor and was, to his own dismay, very huggable. He called himself a genius, and he kind of was. His mind was often in three different places at once. One place was always the universe. He was resting in a dark place then, but he was beautiful.

* * *

Daichi and Suga’s father hated the police. Even after Suga went to get his testing done, “nothing was guaranteed.” More than the police, though, Daichi hated himself because yet again he failed to protect the person who made his life worth living.

Masa escaped after everything. Even if the test was successful, it would take time for them to locate him and arrest him. And he even heard someone who dared to say, “Weren’t they in a relationship?”

Suga had to hold him back from getting himself arrested.

“Hey,” he said to him later in a park, “if anyone asks, please say he cheated.”

“Of course.”

In school, Suga’s father explained the situation to the principal. He was able to get time off.

“You better take good notes for me. I know you’re not that smart, but I’m counting on you,” Suga had deadpanned. He grinned afterwards.

He began to bring his numb chucks with him wherever he went. He became wary and didn’t let anyone but Daichi and his father touch him. Daichi expected something like this. He was actually glad Suga didn’t try to act fine when they both knew he wasn’t.

Only with time did he heal. When they started their third year, he finally told Daichi something he wanted to say for a while. They were in the art room when he asked, “Do you remember what he said back then?”

“Don’t know who you’re talking ‘bout.”

“ _Daichi_.”

“Ah, _fine_. No, I don’t remember what he said. Why do you?”

“Because it was about _you_. Soon after we met, I started liking you. But I still had feelings for him, so I didn’t know what to do. That’s why he felt that way. Ah, and I'm not saying it was my fault. I was crying in front of Ukai’s shop then because I was mad for lying to myself and hurting you. I was just lost. That’s why I tried to stop any intimate thing we would have.”

Daichi sighed. Suga continued, "But you were...the only person who said my hair color was silver, not gray."

He pulled him close to embrace him. “I knew I should have snatched you while I had the chance.”

That day, he painted Suga on a canvas. His favorite part was painting his silver hair. And the mole.

* * *

Daichi couldn’t remember a lot about his favorite places because his favorite place was their apartment. He’d bought it with the money he earned from his motorcycle business, the money intended for college. He was afraid of leaving Suga’s side again and letting him go. Ukai found him a job at a restaurant and he continued to paint and lead the gang. Suga worked at an aquarium.

He was about to suggest to Kuroo and Tsukishima that they go to his job, when there was a sudden knock on Nekoma’s door. Kuroo answered it with caution. As he recognized the face in front of him, he turned and shouted to Daichi, “Guess who’s here, Sawamura!”

He saw the light, silver hair and ran to him. He held him and they fell in the middle of the entrance. Without words, they gave each other a month’s worth of kisses. To the cats who were watching, it almost never ended.

“Where the hell were you?!” Daichi finally said, after catching his breath.

Suga scratched his head. “Well, you see…my mother passed. You know she left when I was about thirteen. I found out she left because she learned she had cancer and didn’t want me or my father to be sad. For all these years, she went through chemo. I’d come home later because I’d go to visit her. But after she died, I decided to go to her side of the family with my father and take care of them. They live in Hokkaido, so I was thinking about you a lot, but my phone had no reception.”

Suga continued, “I went to our base first, but the guys told me you were looking for me here. Oh! And I have souvenirs.”

Daichi was speechless for a while.

Kuroo spoke for the gang. “And you thought he was cheating?!”

“I know!” he fired at him. He stroked Suga’s head and smiled. “I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. I don’t deserve you. But, also, tell me where you’re going, even if you’re mad at me.”

Suga kissed his hand. “You’re right, I’ll tell you. And you are an idiot, but that’s not a bad thing. Also, we should go back there one day. I want to see the place where you grew up.”

Daichi made sure to look directly into his eyes as he said, “Definitely.”


	16. Time Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A time from the past, meaningful late night discussions, less meaningful drinking sessions, and necessary relationship fluff.  
> So yeah, Tsukki gets drunk in this chapter; though I don't condone underage drinking, I wanted to portray my headcannon that drunk him would be clingy and hyperactive.  
> This chapter is so awkwardly romantic and kinky that I didn't know how to end it properly. The song is "Nandemonaiya (It's Nothing)" by RADWIMPS.  
> 

The knife in his hands was firmly put, even though he was shaking. He only saw an enemy, not a human, so he didn't realize what he’d done until his hands had been stained red. Those same hands that high-fived his friends and did homework and held his mother's hands. They were now the hands of a boy who had taken the life of another.

What the boy feared most was the way his mother would look at him. But when she did, there was no fear or anger in her eyes. There was no sadness. She simply pitied the dead man, and the only reason she did not sigh in relief was that her child had just killed someone.

Then, she wept.

Kuroo shot up in his bed and immediately grabbed his gun from underneath his pillow. But he saw Tsukishima next to him, sleeping soundly, so decided to hold him instead.

“It's alright to hold on to it if you have to,” he suddenly whispered.

“You were awake? Why did you look so asleep?” Kuroo whispered back.

“How should I know what goes on in your brain? Maybe you need glasses.”

“Hell no. Glasses are your thing.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“They’re your trademark. Like, mine is my hairstyle.”

“It's not a hairstyle if it's the result of your lack of hair care. But yeah, that works.”

Kuroo looked at Tsukishima, hurt. “...Koutarou’s would be his golden eyes and Akaashi's would be that you can’t really sense him when he’s there.”

“Yaku-san’s would be his height, and Lev's would be his green eyes.”

“Nice. Oh, and Kenma’s would be his DS.”

“That's perfect.”

The two were perturbed at how entertaining that was for them. They went back to what woke them up in the first place.

“Did you have a nightmare again?” Tsukishima asked him.

He nodded. “But, what do you mean, ‘again’?”

“Remember, on your birthday?”

“Oh, that's right.”

Tsukishima held Kuroo's hand. “It was the day you kissed me out of nowhere.” He continued, “Do you always hold your gun when this happens?”

“I guess. You'd think I'd be afraid of a gun, right? Since I ended a life with these hands. A gun is just another weapon that kills, like a knife. But it's the opposite for me. It makes me feel better.” He sighed. “I must be crazy.”

“Yeah, you are. I've told you this many times. But, you're also human, no?” Tsukishima wasn't looking at him while saying this, because he was embarrassed and knew that if they looked at each other they would kiss a lot and that would lead to round two. He just wanted to sleep.

He felt relieved as he heard Kuroo doze off again.

* * *

Even though he was only eleven years old, Kuroo thoroughly enjoyed sumo wrestling. His father and grandmother were against it because it wasn't something “a child like him should see,” but they knew what happened to him in America so they let it be. They knew this and reading were his only forms of release. His father even pulled some strings and got him tickets for them to see a match.

They sat next to an older man who only stood out to Kuroo because of his menacing appearance. He wasn't very tall, but he gave off an air of strength. He didn't look like the type of person to be interested in something like sumo wrestling. He looked like he got into fights himself; his scars and rugged look were proof.

During the match, the two found themselves shouting the same things at the same time and making the same remarks underneath their breaths. Kuroo's father had fallen asleep, so he turned to the old man next to him and stared. He was a child then, and that was what children did.

Nekomata Yasufumi was irritated by this, however. “What're ya looking at?” he asked the child darkly. His inner gangster had tried to resurface.

“Why are you copying me?” Kuroo asked, unfazed.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Neither of them continued the conversation out of stubbornness. Nekomata already could tell that this kid was too much like himself. He said, “Do you like these matches? You're pretty young.”

“I don't care. I'm this young, and yet I've killed someone.”

Nekomata stared at Kuroo this time; he thought he heard wrong. “Boy, what did you just say?”

“You heard me.”

“And why would you tell this to a stranger? Are you crazy?”

Kuroo frowned, not because he was called crazy, but because he was confused. “But haven't you done it too? I can tell.”

Nekomata was almost impressed. “How old are ya, boy? What's your name?”

The place they were in wasn't very bright, but the old timer saw something like a flame in the boy's eyes. He saw himself about fifty years younger.

“Kuroo Tetsurou,” he said, “I'm eleven.”

“They call me Nekomata. Are you interested in learning how to fight?”

“...Why not?” For some reason, that was the first time he smiled since the incident.

 

Kuroo kept his lessons with Nekomata a secret from his family, since he knew they would be against it. His father had begun acting strange, though. He was coming home late and he wouldn't say anything to anyone sometimes. The only person in that house he could talk to was his grandmother.

One day, he was withdrawn, and Nekomata noticed this. “Something happen at home?”

“...Well, don't you just feel alone sometimes?”

Nekomata knew this kind of conversation was bound to happen, and he dreaded it. The only things he couldn't do were take trains and say gentle words.

“Do you not have any friends?”

“No, I do. Kenma. But his parents don't really like me.”

“Then what do you want me to say, Tetsurou?”

“That you're there. That you'll always be with me.”

Nekomata messed up Kuroo's hair. “If you already know that, then what else is there to say?”

Kuroo smiled, but he couldn't stop himself from crying.

“You can let it out. It's okay.”

Before his family took their summer vacation trip to Miyagi, Nekomata gave Kuroo a gift.

“I know you're not good at thinking about others, but you could've at least gotten a size that fits,” Kuroo said as he held the pair of leather gloves in his hands.

“Shut up. I didn't buy them. They were mine, and now I'm giving them to you. I know they don't fit yet, kid. But when they do, wear them. They'll protect ya.”

Kuroo was dubious. “You sure?”

“No, of course not. They just look cool.”

He laughed. “That makes more sense.”

“But," he said with a certain tenderness, “if you meet someone in the future who you want to share your life with, give one to them.”

“...Okay.”

He patted him on the back, nearly making him fall. "When you get back, get ready for hellish training.”

 

For the next two years or so, Kuroo's life consisted of fighting, badgering Kenma, who moved to Miyagi, and more fighting. It was all a distraction from his father's increasing disappearances and lack of explanations. He'd see him open a bottle of whiskey and he'd buy Kuroo expensive things that he didn't ask for.

The thing he couldn't stand the most was hearing his father arguing with his grandmother. Whenever he would ask her about it, she would smile her usual smile and say, “It's alright. There's no need to worry.”

But since he knew his grandmother, he knew that when she said that it wasn't good. It only made him worry more.

She would stroke his hair gently and give him a sad smile. “I love you, my son. But I feel kind of bad because you look just like me. I'm sure you've been bullied.”

“I'd just beat them up! Don’t worry,” he would tell her.

“Well, I'm glad you can take care of yourself. I'm glad.”

Those were her last words to him, because the next day he returned home from school only to see it in flames. He rushed in, despite his father and the firemen trying holding him back. He barely felt himself fall on the burning wood. He barely felt his skin dissolving. He just trudged on, with only _“Grandma”_  incessantly repeating in his mind.

But his father had pulled him out by then.

* * *

Kuroo forgot he woke up again and was telling this story to Tsukishima.

“After that, you moved here and your father opened up a bookstore.”

“Basically.”

“So, Nekomata-san was your hero.”

“I guess. But I don't like that word.”

“Why?”

Kuroo lowered his eyes. “A girl I rescued from some thugs once called me that. But I'm not respectable. I don't save anything. A villain makes more sense.”

Tsukishima pulled Kuroo's hair. “You're not a villain. You're just an idiot. Who says that sort of thing, anyway?”

“Me?”

“Well, stop. It's annoying. And besides, didn’t you want to be a hero at some point? Haven’t you wanted to go back in time and fix everything?”

“Honestly, yeah. I used to even search up about it because I was desperate. I was delusional enough to think I could build a time machine. But not anymore.” Kuroo smiled. “If I’m just your hero, I'm okay.”

Tsukishima didn’t quite like the way that sounded. “No, that's not right.”

“What do you mean?”

He wished he didn't have to say it, but there was no way out. “You're not…to me…someone as simple as that.”

Kuroo's response was the opposite of what he expected. He was quiet, and at first Tsukishima thought he said something wrong, but he saw a shade of red in his face and was relieved.

* * *

When Tsukishima arrived at the base early one April afternoon, it was because he’d went to the opening ceremony at school. He was finally a third-year student. Just a month before, he and the gang had attended Tora, Kenma and Inuoka’s graduation ceremony. Somehow, in one way or another, they were moving on in life.

As soon as he arrived, the rest of the gang shot Kuroo deadly looks. It was as if they didn't expect to see Tsukishima so early, because Kuroo hadn't told them anything.

“W-what brings you here so early, Kei? Are you skipping school?” Kuroo asked him. “I know you're one of us, but...”

“What are you talking about? I told you today was just the opening ceremony.”

“You did?” Kuroo said, genuinely surprised.

“Didn't I tell you last night? We were watching _Detective Zero_ reruns. The last one was when Rei got shot by his ex. What's the big deal?”

Just then, Lev arrived as well, and Yaku immediately pulled him over. “You had an opening ceremony, too?” he whispered.

“Whaat? I told you this! Do you not listen to me when I talk to you?”

Yaku looked away. “Uh...”

Lev held Yaku against the wall, away from the others. He snatched his bangs and pulled his head up. Although Yaku flinched in pain, he didn’t let go. He wasn't angry or upset; he was simply taking advantage of the guilt in Yaku's face and wanted to see his reaction. But he didn't expect the pinkness in his cheeks to spread to his ears as he grabbed him.

“What? Are you upset?” Yaku asked.

“Maybe,” he answered.

“I'm sorry, okay? It's just that you talk about everything all the time and I can't keep up sometimes. And when I'm not listening to you, I'm really just focused on...looking at you.”

If Lev had been listening to Yaku, he would understand. But then, while he couldn't tell if it was due to the lighting and whatnot, Lev realized Yaku’s face (in pain) was especially attractive that day. He knew if he said this he would get punched in the stomach, so he thought it instead. He pictured what Yaku’s expression would be if he were to do more.

Finally, he released his bangs and whispered in his ear, “I _am_ upset. So, to make up for it, tonight, do you think we could try some light spanking?”

Yaku nearly screamed. “You—you’re—!”

“Is that a ‘no’? First you don’t listen to me, and now you don’t even want to do me this favor?” Lev was enjoying messing with him. “And judging by your expression when I grabbed your hair, you might like it.”

He was silent, but for Yaku, silence usually meant reluctant compliance.

Meanwhile, Kuroo was explaining the gang’s suspicious behavior to Tsukishima. “Well, uh, you see, the guys and I were planning something...” he said.

Even without his glasses, he would be able to tell that Kuroo was inebriated. His eyes were wider than normal, his face was slightly flushed, his voice shaky and his movements wobbly. Tsukishima knew him well, but not well enough to understand what he was talking about.

“When are you going to tell me what’s going on?” he said.

In embarrassment, he scratched the back of his head. “Follow me,” he said. He then mumbled, “Though it was supposed to be a surprise...”

They walked to the end of the hall, to the room where they slept in the same futon. It was the room where they first connected, because Kuroo had gotten drunk.

He opened the door, and inside was the same old futon, but on it were scattered moonflower petals and beside it were unlit candles. There was a small bookshelf in the corner. On top of it were some condoms and lubricant.

“What is this?” Tsukishima asked, half confused and half bothered.

“Well, the thing with Sawamura and Suga got me thinking that we should have our own special place. Our homes won’t really work, and we can’t live together, so this was the only thing I could think of. The guys are letting this be ours.”

Tsukishima believed him, but the ambiance of the room and the items of the bookshelf gave him another idea that Kuroo was leaving out. “So,” he said, “basically it's our sex room?”

Kuroo stuttered, “I-if you want to put it that way, sure.”

Although he initially found the whole thing random and strange, that was Kuroo, and he began to warm up to the idea. “I mean, a place to lock ourselves away from the rest of the world...doesn't sound too bad.”

He smiled. “Right? I’d planned on making a cake, too, but you came home early.”

“But did planning this require drinking in the middle of the day?”

Kuroo laughed. “Of course you could tell. And no, it was supposed to be for later, but Kai got impatient.”

“Kai-san? Really? You sure it wasn't you?”

“I'm sure! That guy isn't as innocent as you think.” Tsukishima looked at him in disbelief, so he said, "Someone likes to be righteous, don't they?”

He purposefully said this, so that Tsukishima would say, “Wait. That's not true.”

“Oh, really? Then prove it.”

Tsukishima did realize that he fell into Kuroo's trap, but he didn't care. He was handed some _sake_ , apologized to his mother, and it went to hell from there.

Kuroo wanted to give himself an award for his genius thinking. Surely enough, Tsukishima was a lightweight, but to the gang’s (mostly Kuroo’s) dismay, the initial drunk version of him wasn’t much different from the normal him. If anything, he stuck closer to Kuroo and spoke louder. However, as he continued drinking, he marched around the base singing—shouting the words to “I’m a Believer.”

As the gang broke into laughter, Tora immediately took a video of the scene on his phone. Just as Kuroo was wanting drunk Tsukishima to himself, the latter ran up to him, jumped on him, and they fell on the floor together. Almost too quickly, he was taking off Kuroo’s shirt and unzipping his pants.

Kuroo turned to the guys. “Sorry. You might want to leave. Or stay, I don’t care.” He took Tsukishima’s arm and picked him up, carrying him princess-style. He took him to their newly claimed room at the end of the hall and set him down on the futon. He asked, “Are you conscious enough to know what’s about to happen? I don’t want you to later think I took advantage of your drunkenness to do whatever I wanted.”

“But, isn’t that what’s happening?” Tsukishima took charge and continued with Kuroo’s zipper, then underwear, and kissed what was underneath. Slowly, softly, he let his tongue maneuver Kuroo. He didn’t hold back on consuming it.

Kuroo quivered above him. “Kei—”

Tsukishima almost glared at him. “Just shut up and relax.”

They both felt hot from the alcohol, and while in their minds they knew that they shouldn’t have been drunk in the first place, they blamed the events of that afternoon on the _sake._

 

_“Dammit.”_

Kuroo leaned over and saw the shadow over Tsukishima’s face. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

This time, worse than glaring at him, he smiled. He took Kuroo’s ear and pulled it hard. “I know you didn’t just ask me that. Three times? _Three times_?”

“Ouch! That...it was the _sake_!”

“Okay, but my entire body is sore. Who the hell does it three times in less than an hour?”

“Okay, but it all started with your whole fellatio thing.”

Tsukishima scoffed. “Again with the fancy words? Use normal words.”

“It _is_ a normal word!”

He slowly got up and headed for the door. “We fell asleep right afterwards, so now I have a hangover and I’m running late for school,” he said.

Kuroo stopped him. “Wait. Are you really regretting it? Should we not have done anything at all?”

He couldn’t see his expression because the light reflecting off his glasses blocked his eyes. “Did it come across that way?” he asked.

“Kind of.”

He knelt on the futon and held Kuroo’s face in his hands. He kissed him. “You know I’m not good with words,” he said, “so this should do.”

In the most unusual places at the most unexpected times, Tsukishima never failed to surprise Kuroo and make his heart jump. “So, uh, need any help getting dressed?”

“No,” he answered bluntly. But he thought on it, and his body was sore, so he accepted the offer.

* * *

Yamaguchi Tadashi knew two very clear things about his friend: He hated talking to most people (i.e., their classmates) for more than five minutes, and he hated strenuous exercise. This is how he knew he was special to his blonde friend, who showed up to school late, but was ready to go on a tirade about his relationship. Throughout the story, he realized that Kuroo was also special to him (even he knew that sex was an exercise).

“I never thought I'd hear you talk about someone for so long. Kuroo-san must be great in bed.”

“Yama—” Tsukishima was too embarrassed to finish. As Yamaguchi laughed, he realized he had something else to say. “You know, I don't get it.”

“Get what?”

“How are you able to accept me so easily? We're a gay couple, you know. Does it not bother you?”

“I mean, should it? I've always known you weren't interested in relationships, I just didn't think you were interested in guys.”

“Not really guys. _A_ guy.”

“Oh. I see. Well, it makes me happy, since I can't take care of you forever. Even though it's hard to swallow because he's a gangster, if you're happy then my opinion doesn't matter.” Yamaguchi's innocent grin had always been reassuring.

After school, while all Tsukishima wanted to do was go home and rest, Yamaguchi prodded him to go to the mall together. While at first, everything was irritating him and he had his headphones on because of the noise, he stopped in front of a unisex lingerie store.

He was more so surprised at himself for considering going inside than the fact that such a thing existed in rural Japan.

Yamaguchi was leering at him. “Tsukki.”

“What?”

“You can go inside if you want to.”

Tsukishima was going to say that he didn't want to, but he did, so he slowly walked inside. The only reason he was curious was because of a conversation he'd had with Kuroo before:

_“I need new underwear.”_

They were at his house in his room, so Tsukishima didn't call him out on the randomness of his declaration. _“Why?”_

 _“Because these are all boring.”_ He held up solid colored briefs and striped briefs, which seemed fine to Tsukishima.

_“What's wrong with those?”_

_“Everything. They don't have any cool or weird designs.”_

_“I think your personality fills that gap, though.”_

_“It doesn't.”_

So, Tsukishima didn't know how lingerie would play into that, but he knew it would keep him quiet for a while. He looked around, sticking close to Yamaguchi. The items were almost too kinky for him, but he saw something black and laced and thought of Kuroo.

He showed it to Yamaguchi, who laughed. “A jockstrap? You're getting him that? He'll freak.”

Tsukishima could confidently say, “No, you don't know him. He'll be ecstatic.”

And he was.

But there was a look in his eyes that Tsukishima was wary of. “When you got this, were you thinking of me wearing it or me making you wear it?”

“The first one,” he answered bluntly. He knew what Kuroo was thinking when it came to these things. “I'm not wearing it. I wanted...to see you in it.”

That was more than enough to defeat him. He was already weak to Tsukishima when he turned pink; when his brown eyes would show behind his lenses. Whenever he tried to use words to express his feelings, he ended up surprising him. Who knew he was into this?

“Dammit, I'll wear it. I'll wear it as much as you want me to. Just stop making that face.”

“What face?”

“You wouldn't know, if you're making it.”

That was the day Kuroo first tried on a jockstrap. He even tried a gravure-style pose. “What’re ya doing? You started this,” he said to the Tsukishima who was covering his face with his hands.

“I know,” he said, “but it’s too much. You’re too much.” Kuroo later told him that he would rather be “too much” instead of “not enough” or “just right.”


	17. Kuroo and Kei, I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy mother's day! This chapter is plot-heavy and there are some really nice moments imo. Part 1 of 2. The song for both chapters is "Can't Help Falling in Love" by the king of rock n' roll, Elvis Presley.

In an instant, they shot him. He had been standing there beside him, so he saw the instant Daishou pulled the trigger. He felt himself about to shield Kuroo, but he saw he was too late. His eyes witnessed the bullet piercing his gut as he fell to the ground. He stood, frozen, terrified.

Stage one: Disbelief.

“Tetsu?” he asked the person who was immobile. “Get up,” he said, “what are you doing? Your place is not on the ground.”

There was no response but a slight blink of the eye.

Stage two: Rejection.

“Tetsu,” he repeated. His voice was shaking then, “Tetsurou.” He knelt to the body that was brimming with energy just a few seconds ago. He was blind to the sight of the gushing red from the wound. He was numb to the feel of the blood washing over his hands. Angrily, forcefully, he pushed down to stop the blood flow. He grabbed Kuroo’s jacket collar and pulled him up. “Why aren't you answering?”

Again, only the slight flicker of his eyes. Kuroo slowly lifted his arm and held Tsukishima's face with his cold hand. His glasses had fallen off by then, the saltwater from his eyes revealing itself in streams.

Stage three: Heartbreak.

“Don't you dare...” he uttered. He shouted to Kenma to call an ambulance. Kuroo coughed as he tried to speak. Instead, he pulled Tsukishima's face down for a kiss. It echoed in finality, but he tried to hold on. He tried, but he couldn’t. And when Tsukishima felt nothing more; no pulse or breath, he knew. His heart, in pieces, knew. He rocked back and forth, cradling the body, not letting go. He refused to let go.

 

Darkness. A ceiling. A desk. A bed. On it: a copy of _No Longer Human_. They had been reading that book together. Beside him: Kuroo.

His checklist was done, but his sweat was real, and that nightmare had just happened.

“Oi, it hurts.”

After what felt like ages to him, that familiar voice spoke. He finally heard his voice, the voice that spoke to him in serenades and lyrics, the voice he couldn’t get enough of. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“You've been squeezing my arm for the past ten minutes.”

He didn't realize. “I was?” Still, he was reluctant to let go.

“I figured you were having a nightmare. Were you?”

He paused. “Something like that, I guess. I don't really remember.” He didn't regret lying like this, especially because he wished he didn't remember.

The red mark on Kuroo's arm told him otherwise, so he eyed Tsukishima for a few minutes, but seemed to believe him. “Okay.”

Following this, Tsukishima became increasingly on edge. Even if he’d been trying to hide it, it was obvious to anyone who looked. This was why when Kuroo had to leave Miyagi and travel to Tokyo for a meeting, everyone looked at him to see if he was going to tell him not to go. The only one allowed to go with him was Yaku, his aide, but even he wanted to let Tsukishima go.

As they got ready to leave, Tsukishima was expressionless. Lev was nearly in tears because Yaku was leaving.

“I’ll be back tomorrow,” Kuroo said to him.

This was the first time they were going to be apart, and despite his placid expression, he was aching. He truly did want to tell him not to leave, but then he would have to explain the nightmare he had. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about it. “Okay,” he replied.

“You know what? Let’s make a bet,” Kuroo suddenly declared.

“A bet?” He couldn’t understand through those half-lidded eyes of his.

“Let’s bet that neither of us will call or text each other while I’m gone. If I contact you first, then I lose, and I have to do anything you want. Or vice versa.”

 _Why are we doing this, exactly?_ he wanted to ask, but he figured it was a sort of test. “Okay,” he said again. He realized there actually was something he wanted to know, so he decided to go along with it.

“You guys better behave!” Kuroo commanded the gang. He looked back at Tsukishima and they kissed on the cheek. “Bye.”

“Bye.”

 

Unexpectedly, they did behave. Tsukishima, Kai and Kenma didn’t have to babysit the others, but one of them just wasn’t being himself. Kai egged Tsukishima on to go talk to him and ask him what was wrong.

“Why me?” he asked.

“This is just between you and me, but I don’t think Tora has ever completely accepted you.”

“And _I_ have to fix that?”

“Sure, why not?”

Kai’s smile irritated him. “I don’t understand you, Kai-san, but I don’t think I want to.”

He walked over to Tora and waited for them to make eye contact before saying anything. “Um, are you alright?”

Tora first responded with a glare, but it quickly subsided and he sighed. “No.”

“Can I ask why?”

“Sure, but it doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”

Inside, Tsukishima wanted to pummel him. “Alright, but I’ll ask anyway.”

Again, he sighed. “Honestly, there’s a girl.”

 _Not my forte, not my forte,_ he repeated in his mind. _Wait, what am I saying? Nothing is my forte._ “Okay, what about her?”

“She’s amazing, really. She’s my coworker. She does archery and she always ranks in the top at her school.”

“Oh, I see. You realize she’s out of your league and you’re bummed about it, right?” Tsukishima said, though he realized he shouldn’t have said it.

Tora grabbed him by his collar. “You wanna fight?”

A switch turned on inside him upon hearing the word “fight.” He smiled. He didn’t know why, but being around Kuroo probably made him accustomed to fighting, and brought him to enjoy them, albeit reluctantly. Threateningly, he said, “You really don’t like me, do you? I’ve always wondered why you went out of your way to get Tetsu and I together, but it was for his sake, wasn’t it? I bet everything you do is for him.”

Tora’s eyes widened and his grip loosened.  “I didn’t know you were like this,” he said. “I hate to admit it, but it’s pretty cool. Does Banchou know?”

“Probably not.” Tsukishima often hid this side of himself around Kuroo, not simply because he found it distasteful, but because he knew this and didn’t care.

Tora didn’t say that he knew Kuroo would enjoy the darker sides of him. “...So, about this girl. I know she’s out of my league, but I also know she likes me. The problem is that I don’t know if we should be together.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m a gangster. I’d ruin her life.”

Tsukishima understood this well, because this was his initial mentality upon meeting Kuroo. Now, his place was standing beside him. “If you already have your answer, why are you mulling over it?” he asked.

“Well, because I like her,” Tora answered.

“Exactly. Instead of jumping to your own conclusions, why don’t you give it a shot?”

He jumped up and shouted enthusiastically. He forcefully hit Tsukishima on his back. “You’re pretty good at this, Tsukishima! Now, just fix that tone and you’re good to go!”

“If that’s your way of saying ‘thank you’, then you’re welcome.”

* * *

Kuroo had never stared at his phone so intensely before. Truthfully, the only other time he did was when there was porn playing. This time, there was none of that, so the only other reason had to have been Tsukishima. They were on the bullet train, and Yaku noticed what he was doing.

“Are you waiting for him to text you or something?”

His silence meant that he was.

“Give it up. He's not the type to do that. You should know.”

“I know. But he surprises me sometimes.”

“Why do you think he's been withdrawn lately?”

“It's something to do with me. He had a nightmare, I'm sure.”

Yaku hesitated to ask this next question. "You know, I've been wondering what it is that you see in him. We like him, but his brother is that policeman, no? The guy who's been on our case for a while.”

“Yaku.” Kuroo's tone was definite. “I bet you don't know what you see in Lev, right?”

“Well...”

“Exactly. It’s just, with him, the world feels better. Don’t you get that feeling?”

Just then, his phone vibrated. “Did he send you a text?” Yaku said.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t sound like him.” The text message read: _I miss you, Tetsu! :’(_

Yaku snatched away his phone and stared at the message. “This was Lev. I don't know how he got Tsukishima's phone, but he always leaves these kinds of faces.”

Kuroo sighed. “Of course.”

Even during the meeting, he glanced at his phone every now and then. Daichi called him out on watching porn, but Bokuto defended him.

There, in an abandoned warehouse, was Nekoma, Fukurodani, and Karasuno, as well as the gang leader who never showed up to the meetings or group fights.

Oikawa Tooru flipped his hair to the side as he fixed his eyebrows and checked his nails. The others had always thought he was never suited for being a gang leader, unlike his aide, Iwaizumi. “Then, why are you not focused?” he said to Kuroo. “For once, I’m here, but nothing productive is happening.”

“Then go fix your hair somewhere else. We don’t need you here,” he snapped at him.

“Sounds like someone is mad because they can’t style their hair properly.”

“Sounds like someone has a stick up their ass.”

Before it grew in scale, Daichi cleared his throat to stop their back and forth. Kuroo turned to him. “Anyway, Sawamura, you said something about Nohebi was bothering you?”

“Yeah, about that...”

 

“Lev, I’m going to hurt you.”

The perpetrator smiled proudly. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” he chimed, “I only said what you were thinking.”

“But if I text him, I lose the bet we made. I know he’d make me do something insane.”

“Oh?” He laughed nervously. “Well, let’s hope he’ll realize it wasn’t you.”

That night, he was alone in his room on his bed. His room was normal, his bookshelf had stayed the same, and his records and vinyl were all on one piece. However, that was the problem. For once, he liked the disorder; the chaos, he _wanted_ it. He had become used to Kuroo (the source of his chaos) sleeping in the same bed as him and walking with him. Spending a night knowing he wasn’t across the street and instead three hours away was strange.

This was probably what Kuroo wanted from him—to be tempted to contact him and give into that temptation. But since there was something about Kuroo that he had to know, he couldn’t.

When his phone started ringing, he sighed with relief. The only person who would call him so late at night was the source of his chaos. “Hello?” he tried to sound as if the call woke him up.

 _“How could you do this to me?”_ cried the voice three hours away.

“What are you talking about?”

_“I know you miss me. You set me up to lose this bet.”_

“You know I don’t like to lose.”

_“More than you love me?”_

He paused and left his response as silence, because although he already knew his answer, it was still late and he was still half-asleep. He didn’t want to have to admit it this way. “If that’s all, I’m going to sleep,” he said.

_“Hey, wait—”_

He pretended to snore loudly.

_“Alright, fine. Be like that. Just don’t come up with anything crazy for tomorrow.”_

The next morning, Tsukishima woke up to the sun piercing through his curtains. He felt relieved to not have woken up from a nightmare. He saw the note his mother left about going to yoga class, and decided go out himself. As he left, he went across the street to see if Kuroo was home.

“Lookin’ for me?” a voice asked. Kuroo walked up to him from down the street with his hands in his pockets, miswak in his mouth, and his clothes undone.

Tsukishima, as if by reflex, drew closer to him and almost took him in his arms. Not being able to hug him was an awkward moment for them, as they’d been close and done many intimate things before. Something simple such as a hug should have been no problem. But it was out of his character to be real and honest. It was even out of his character to love.

Even so—and reality could attest to this—there he stood: in love, in fear. “There you are,” he said with a half-smile on his face, though it was fully genuine.

“Here I am.”

They went back up to Kuroo’s room, and Tsukishima passed by his father with a nod, as usual. “How was it?” he asked him after they got settled.

“What?” Kuroo asked, as if the past day and a half didn’t happen.

“The meeting...”

“Oh, it wasn’t anything I didn’t already know. Just to mind our territory and activities. Oikawa was an annoying bastard, though. And the only reason I stayed there for a night was because I knew that we’d be done after the last train of the night left.”

“Then, do you want to know what I came up with?”

“For the bet?” Kuroo took his shirt and pants off just to be prepared. “Shoot.”

“Show me your birthmark,” Tsukishima demanded.

It was funnier than he thought it would be because he saw the change in Kuroo’s expression from glowing to that of terror. “T-that? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play coy. You only mentioned it once, but I know you have one. You lost, so you have to show me.” During this, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of superiority.

Kuroo slowly pulled down his underwear, to his surprise, and revealed a heart-shaped patch of skin on his left cheek lighter than the rest. He was beginning to keel over in embarrassment. Tsukishima boldly traced the small mark with his finger.

“There’s a heart on your butt? It’s so small that I didn’t even notice it before...And you’re worried about it?”

Kuroo pretended to ignore his sensitive touch. “My mother put me through hell as a kid! She took pictures and would show the neighbors.”

“Hey, are you done staring at my ass? Can we sleep?” he asked, as he realized the moment wasn't passing.

“Yeah,” he replied, not quite listening. He was still looking at the mark, and somehow felt the urge to run his lips over it.

The softness of his lips was not good for Kuroo's restraint. “What are you doing? Are you trying to turn me on?” he breathed. Since he still wasn't listening, Kuroo grabbed his arm and threw him on his bed. “You're acting kind of strange,” he said. “I mean, you're always strange, but now you're acting like I'm going to leave you or something. You don't usually kiss me on your own. Not to say I don't like it, but—”

“Tetsu.”

With only his name, Tsukishima stopped him. “What is it?”

“Don't leave.”

Kuroo didn't understand him then, but reassured him anyway. “I'm not going anywhere.”

* * *

When Kuroo told him that he was paying a visit to Nekomata, he didn't know that automatically included him as well. “Why am I coming along?” he asked.

“He said he wants to talk to you,” Kuroo answered.

That had an ominous sound to it, but he didn't want to cause himself unnecessary worry.

The old cat’s home was a ramshackle, hole-in-the-wall apartment. His floors creaked, his paint chipped, and there was a constant sour smell whose origins remain unknown. Nonetheless, the man seemed to be living comfortably.

"Huh? What're you two doing here?"

Kuroo and Tsukishima exchanged glances. The former said, "Are ya going senile, old man? You're the one who wanted to see us."

Nekomata laughed. "Right. Just wait until you get older, my boy."

He poured some coffee for them and they sat on his tearing red couch. "It's my cats," he said.

"So? What is it?" Kuroo asked.

Nekomata eyed them. "So you're together."

"What of it?" Kuroo said.

He sighed and turned to Tsukishima. "It's risky."

"What is?" he replied.

"This relationship."

The two didn't know how to respond, and they didn't want to continue the conversation any further.

Finally, Tsukishima said, "What makes you say that? Because we're both guys?"

The graying man shook his head. "No. When I first met you, Tetsurou told me how he felt about you. And I was worried because you don't seem much like a gangster."

"So, what?" Kuroo snapped. He was becoming increasingly irritated, but Tsukishima whispered to him to calm down.

"You might have some fighting skills, but you're not a gangster at heart. Tetsurou is different. His breathing is fighting. Something...might fall apart."

"Are you saying that one of us is going to get hurt?" Tsukishima asked.

"Pretty much."

Kuroo slammed the table and some coffee spilled. "This kind of talk isn't like you at all."

Nekomata's gaze turned dark. "Kid. I'm saying this because I care, so don't spill coffee on my damn table. It's new."

He scoffed. "It's probably the only new thing in here."

Before Nekomata fired back, Tsukishima interrupted, "Anyway, I'm sure you want to talk about something else while we're here."

The old gangster cleared his throat. "About the snakes. Do you know why there's bad blood between us?"

"No..."

He turned to Kuroo. "Seriously, kid? You didn't tell him anything."

"Neither did you. All you did was hand me a revolver and tell me to kick their ass. Then I actually met them, and what you said made sense."

He laughed. "The father of the kid in charge of them now was a friend of mine. He was around ten years younger, but the boys and I liked having him around. He was a man with little to no morals, though. You couldn't see who he was even if you've known him for years. You couldn't tell what he was fighting for. I knew he had his own family issues with his mother and arranged marriage and whatnot."

"So you knew Daishou's father?" Kuroo asked. He'd read enough novels to know where this story was headed.

"Yeah. He was a part of Nekoma then, before it became the 'Nekoma' gang. He was a sly bastard. He'd destroy others from the inside out. But then, after his parents disowned him, he met a girl and settled down, so I thought him being that way was over."

"I bet you were wrong."

"I was. I tried to stop him from getting into trouble because his wife was pregnant. We had a falling out, he did his own thing, and out came Nohebi."

Tsukishima took a breath, "But you killed him, didn't you?"

It fell to a deadly silence. "I killed my friend," he confirmed. "That I did."

Kuroo hit the table again. "Ossan! You didn't really..."

"He was getting out of hand, despite having a son. He was hitting on my wife, going through my turf, not agreeing to any plans. He went rogue. When I asked him why, he said he was bored and angry."

More than anyone else, the two of them knew that boredom and anger were lovers of disaster.

"He went and tried to be with my wife, and although I wanted to, that wasn't why I killed him. I killed him because he asked me to."

"He...asked you to? What crazy..."

"He was a horrible husband, not the best father, or the best friend. He had a drinking problem...frankly, he was a disaster. The thing is, I liked disaster. I liked him."

* * *

"Kill me," he said. They'd just fought one another, and Nekomata knew his friend was half dead anyways. During the fight, they forgot why they were fighting. It wasn't something bitter like honor or something sweet like friendship.

They were tired.

"The hell are you talkin' about?" Nekomata said. His voice was grim and gritty. He knew how important life was and how easy death was, since he still recalled the memory of his father and the cable that hung him.

Daishou's father pointed Nekomata's gun at his chest. His eyes, opened wide, stared at his friend with no hesitation. 

"What's wrong with you? Why do you want the easy way out?"

"I'm tired, Yasu."

"Is that all you can say, you bastard? Your wife and son have suffered enough."

There was silence, and Nekomata thought his friend wanted to die because he had made his family suffer. But he didn't say this, because it wasn't going to change anything.

"Just do it," he finally said.

Nekomata looked into his eyes the entire time, testing him to see if he would crack. But he didn't.

With eyes that said, "I love you," he said to Nekomata, "Thank you."

With eyes that felt anger and betrayal, he didn't reply. He couldn't reply, because there was a rock in his throat and tears in his eyes.

The shot that went off resounded in his heart.

* * *

There was nothing for them to say after hearing the story. There were no words. Kuroo simply held tightly onto Tsukishima’s hand and didn't let go. When Tsukishima went to the restroom, Kuroo stared at Nekomata as if to ask something.

"What is it, boy? Do you want to know if you have to kill him?"

He was silent.

"Why would you think I'd make you dirty your hands again?"

"If you told me to, I'd do it. But..."

"You like him, right? Daishou's boy."

"He's annoying, he kidnapped my friend's boyfriend, and one of his lackeys shot my best friend. I hate him, but it'd be weird without him around. What...what should I do?"

Nekomata walked up to him and pumped his fist against Kuroo's chest. "There are some fights a man has to fight."

He snickered to hide his feeling emotional. "You got better with the words, old man."

The old man ruffled his hair. "Go get 'em."

Afterwards, as they went home, Tsukishima could tell with only a glance that Kuroo was mulling over what happened. He felt the need to do something to get his attention. He pulled him into an alley and said, "Kiss me."

Kuroo snapped back to reality. "What? Now?"

"Yes. Now."

He turned slightly pink, but he slowly caressed Tsukishima's growing blond hair and held his face in his hands. He motioned forward as if he didn't want to break him, and yet kissed him as if to consume him. He sometimes couldn't believe they were together. And whenever they would kiss like this, it always surprised them how natural it felt. How much the them from nine years ago have changed—and not.

"Now will you snap out of your mood?" Tsukishima said to Kuroo.

"So that's what it was. Is this your way of cheering me up?"

"Whatever. Let's go."

Hand in hand, they went.

 

The next order of business was confrontation. Now that Kuroo knew what he had to do and why, he begun taking his position as leader more seriously. He had Yaku and Lev stake out their base to see what they were up to, since he'd heard from Daichi that they were making some transactions with yakuza subgroups.

"Why can't we just confront them directly?" Lev asked Yaku when they arrived.

Yaku flicked him on the forehead. "You idiot. Why would they blatantly tell us they're doing something illegal?"

"It's not like we're any better. Doesn't Kuroo-san own a gun?"

Yaku's eyes widened. He almost forgot that. "That's...he never uses it. It doesn't have any bullets."

Lev's attention was directed towards the window through which he saw Daishou in the rolling some kind of leaves in some kind of paper. Stupidly, from his surprise, his head banged against the window and all heads turned to him.

Before pulling him away, Yaku kicked him in the butt. "Of course this happened," he muttered.

After they ran far enough, Lev pulled away from him and said, catching his breath, "Why did you say that?"

Yaku, still irritated, replied, "You ruin everything!"

"What are you saying?" Lev was upset now. "Don't you love me?"

"That has nothing to do with it."

"Yes, it does! You don't say that to someone you love."

Looking at Lev's genuinely hurt face, Yaku realized his mistake. He was sometimes too comfortable around him and said things as if they were still only senpai and kouhai. "Lev—"

"I know I'm clumsy and I make mistakes all the time. But you're supposed to be the one to tell me 'it's okay'."

He sighed and scratched his head. "You're right."

"I know."

Just then, Nohebi caught up to them as they'd stood arguing. Daishou and Kuguri were never on tolerable terms with Yaku and Lev. Thus, they skipped the formalities and Daishou went directly to the heart of the matter:

"I didn't think Kuro would stoop so low by sending you guys to spy on us."

Yaku stepped forward. "And I didn't think you guys had stooped so low by dealing drugs."

"Why are you so focused on me? Doesn't your leader have a gun?"

He rolled his eyes. "Why does everyone know that?"

"Well, I know Kuro."

"No, you don't. You know nothing and yet you hate him."

Daishou's reply was a right hook, but Yaku deflected it and hit him with an uppercut. "You can't hurt me," he said. He pointed to Lev, "The only one allowed to do that is him. But even then, he's got to have a good excuse."

"Yaku-san..."

He turned to Lev and said with a smile, "I know this isn't the best time or place to say it, but...I love you."

Lev immediately pounced on him, but Yaku quickly pushed him away because Daishou still wanted a fight.

"Wait!" a voice bellowed from down the street.

Kuroo and the gang marched up to the two snakes. "I figured something was going to happen. Because those two were bound to screw something up and you, Daishou, like to go big or go home."

"That's true. I was waiting for this moment. And I can't blame you for owning a gun"—he pulled out a revolver from his jacket—"because of this." With a steady hand, he pointed his gun at the indifferent Kuroo standing next to a terrified Tsukishima.

"Tetsu, don't—" _Wh_ _at? Die? Fight?_ _Those are inevitable things._

Kuroo glanced at Tsukishima and faced the him that would have been. "I thought you hated me, but you really hate my old man, don't you? Nekomata Yasufumi killed your father."

Daishou's eyes were wide with denial and pride while his expression showed the latter had been shattered. "Shut up."

"I know we're similar. So, I don't see why you have to point that thing at me. It's not like you're going to shoot."

"I do hate you. I hate you because we're similar." He clicked the gun in, and Tsukishima was on the edge of his seat. He was waiting for the moment in his dream that he lost him. Even though he waited sweating bullets for it to happen so he could shield him, when he heard the click his eyes reacted before his body.

It fell silent before anyone reacted. It took time for Tsukishima's eyes to register the bullet lodging in Kuroos side. Kuroo staggered his fall. "Shit...I really didn't think he was going to shoot...what an insane..."

"Stop talking, you moron. Just stop. Stop." Tsukishima was talking not to Kuroo but to the blood coming from his wound.

Even from Yaku, Kenma and everyone else he shielded him. He shouted at them to call an ambulance. He couldn’t hear their "Banchou, Banchou" or their "Daishou is going to be dead." He didn't see the gathering of the clouds or the mix of terror and satisfaction in Daishou's face.

He heard nothing but Kuroo's ragged breathing and saw nothing but his face. He held him, infuriated with himself and with the person he was holding.


	18. Kuroo and Kei, II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 of 2. Family, arguments, a foolish fight, and hospital visits feat. strawberries, mackerel and three short words.  
> Onto brighter things in the next chapter!  
> 

Tsukishima loved high places. More accurately, he didn’t love them (he hardly loved anything), he simply found them relaxing. He chose the roof of his school to escape class, but he didn’t expect to want to stay there because of a certain disheveled gangster chewing on a teeth-cleaning stick.

He now saw Kuroo in a hospital bed, and he wasn't surprised he stayed alive because he persistently pinched his limp arm during the ambulance ride. “What am I doing?” he asked himself. “Why am I so hung up over this...” He was alive. That should have been the most important thing, but this didn't settle his emotions. He left the pale white room with the unconscious Kuroo and saw a fidgety man pacing back and forth.

“You're...his dad?” Tsukishima asked; he was only sixty percent sure since he'd only seen him a few times for a second.

The man, with a five o'clock shadow and scruffy hair, nodded. The only physical feature that connected Kuroo with his father was the caramel skin. Personality-wise, they both seemed to not know what to do with themselves when things fell apart. “I, uh...you're Tsukishima Kei?”

“Yes.”

“The only thing he told me about you was your name, so I don't know what to say. I don't know what you are to him.”

“For starters, aren't you curious about what brought him here?”

“...It's gang related, that's all I want to know.”

Tsukishima raised his eyebrows at the father's knowledge. He accepted the strangeness of his choice of words so far as another part of his character. He was almost positive that telling him the truth of their relationship was a horrible idea.

“We're friends, I guess.”

“You look like you haven't slept in days.”

“Well...” His eyes motioned towards Kuroo's hospital room. “So do you.”

The father cracked a smile.

The two of them stayed there for a while, reluctant to leave in case his condition became worse. All Tsukishima thought of was the ending of _No Longer Human_ , his favorite dessert and the hands that once made it. He also thought of brushing up on his reflexes and karate.

He's been useless for a while, being protected and loved in strange ways. What has he done? Release his out of character anger and tears because of a single person? A person he couldn't even protect? He'd taken advantage of this person being there and alive and annoyingly persistent.

He selfishly loved him.

 

Tsukishima woke up to his brother's face. He initially thought he was dreaming, because they were still at the hospital and visiting hours were almost over. There was no plausible coincidence that would explain it. He had to be there on duty.

“Kei? What are you doing here?” Akiteru asked the drowsy blonde whose glasses had fallen on the floor.

“I could say the same to you.”

“I'm here to investigate the shooting. It was that guy I told you about. Kuroo Tetsurou. You?”

“I, uh, I have some friends who volunteer here? I just fell asleep.” It came out as more of a question than he hoped. If there was one thing he hated more than mayonnaise, it was lying. He was an amateur, and it only led to more troublesome situations.

Akiteru seemed to buy it. “Well, you should head home. Mom's gotta be worried.”

He was reluctant to leave, since Akiteru was most likely going to question his boyfriend, but staying would reveal everything he'd been trying to hide.

Akiteru was lucky that Kuroo had woken up. It took him time to adjust to the fact that a policeman was in his room, and since he was on painkillers he couldn't be surprised.

“Do you remember me?” Akiteru asked him.

“Unfortunately.”

“...Do you remember anything about what happened to you?”

He remembered everything. “Yeah.”

“Well, I guess the real question is: 'What are you going to tell me?'”

“I'll tell you that someone shot me. And that they were probably doing something illegal. Daishou. I can never remember if his first name is Subaru, Suguru, or Satoru.”

“And what have you been doing?”

“Why would I tell you if I'm committing a crime?”

Akiteru pulled up a chair and sat beside him. “Fair point. But I have another question: Do you know my brother?”

Everything inside Kuroo froze. He forgot how to speak. He forced himself to respond so suspicion wouldn't arise in Akiteru. “Your brother? Why would I know him?”

“Well, I saw him sleeping outside in the waiting area. He lied to me about why he was here, so I just connected some dots.”

“Don't know him. Maybe his lie was the truth.”

He could tell he wasn't one hundred percent convinced, but that meant some percent was. For now, that was all he needed.

* * *

The only other thing that disoriented Tsukishima to this extent was the existence of hairless cats, a bone of contention for him and Kuroo (this and the shooting were miles apart in significance, though). The gang watched the increase in his OCD, his loss of patience and more sarcasm than usual, and the occasional times when he didn’t have his headphones snug around his neck.

This was a problem, and they had to address it. Of course, Tora addressed it angrily and loudly, “Pull yourself together! Banchou wouldn’t recognize ya if he saw you like this!”

“What? That doesn’t make any sense. He’d recognize me as long as I have my glasses.”

Tora cracked his knuckles. “If you don’t stop that, I’m going to break them.”

Yaku stepped forward. “What he means to say is, we feel the same way you do. We feel like shit and we don’t know what to do with ourselves. But the only reason we’re not falling into our vices like you is because that’s what Kuro would want.”

Immediately, his words made Tsukishima want to hurl. He didn’t feel better; he felt worse, and tired and livid. There was an earthquake going on inside of him and he had no idea how to calm it down. He slammed the broom he was holding (as a distraction he’d been cleaning), to the floor. “How do you know what he wants? Am I not allowed to be a wreck? You guys of all people know how imperfect I am, and yet you’re asking me to control myself? I can’t ‘be okay’ if he’s not.”

Yaku squinted his worn eyes. “We’ve known him for years. I think I know what he would want.”

“I knew him first.”

“Yeah, for one summer.”

Suddenly, they heard the broomstick slam against the poker table. They turned and saw Kenma who debatably looked worse than Tsukishima. He said, “Both of you, shut up. I knew him before any of you. So, I know that since he himself is a mess in general, he would understand Tsukishima’s feelings. But that doesn’t mean you can take advantage of that and wallow in self-pity because we couldn’t protect him. Stop acting like he’s dead when he’s still alive.”

He left them speechless because they knew he was right. Lev laughed. “Why is Ken-san always so right?”

“Indeed,” Kai agreed.

Kenma said to him, “I know I said what you were thinking, Kai. You’re just not strict enough to say it to them.”

Kai turned to everyone on edge. “Are we okay, now?”

They exchanged glances and let go of the hostile air. “We have no choice but to be,” Yaku replied.

* * *

He’d been avoiding the prospect of visiting him because he didn’t know what to say or do. He knew he would just sit there and look at him to make sure his breathing was normal. It wasn’t until Yamaguchi told him, “He might want food,” that he knew what to do.

When he saw him lying in bed, he felt stupid for overthinking it. It was just them, face to face like usual, though one of them barely escaped death. “You look like hell,” he said.

“I felt like I was in it until you walked in.”

“Still a smooth talker, I see.”

“I try.” Kuroo nudged towards his plastic bag. “That looks like a cake.”

“I got it for you, but it’s the one I like because I realized I don’t know what types of cake you like.”

“Well, I’d probably like anything except for pineapple upside down cake. So, you’re good. Let’s share, since I know you want some.”

Tsukishima realized he shouldn’t have gotten his favorite cake if he wanted someone else to eat it.

“I'd ask how you've been, but I don't really want to know the answer.” He glanced and saw something else in the bag. Without asking, he took a book from the bag and cackled.

“Why do you always stake my stuff without permission?”

Ignoring the question, he said, “What’s this? _A Study in Scarlet_? You’ve been reading Holmes without me?”

“Yes, I know I'm a nerd. Don't state the obvious.”

“Well, yeah, but you're my favorite nerd.”

Tsukishima subconsciously smiled instead of grimacing. The him a year ago would have grimaced, but the him sitting on a hard, wooden hospital chair smiled like he could do nothing else. “Am I?”

Kuroo leaned over as much as he could and planted his lips on Tsukishima. “You are.” Just then, they took each other's hands and gripped them tightly. Tsukishima couldn't say he was glad Kuroo was alive. He couldn't say “I love you” or “I hate you.” He could only look at him and feel these things inside.

“This is exactly what Nekomata-san meant. This is exactly why I didn't want to get involved with you,” he did say.

“Well, I'm alive, so...” They leaned for another kiss. Their tongues collided and noses brushed together, and neither of them cared that they were in a hospital.

Their kiss had a hint of strawberry.

* * *

“You want to get a job at Kuro's father's bookstore?” Not only Yaku, but the whole gang thought Tsukishima had a fever.

“Yeah. Did I say something strange?” he asked.

“You want to do something?” Yaku said.

“I've been brushing up on my skills, and I will not hesitate to hit any of you.”

“Alright, alright. Then what do you want from us?”

“I spoke to his father about it already and he told me there was an interview.”

“And you don't know what to do, I'm guessing?” Yaku patted his shoulder. “Then you came to the right—”

“No, Yaku-san. He should talk to Kai-san,” Lev interrupted. “Your manager hates you.”

Yaku fired back at him, “What happened to supporting each other, huh?”

The gang came together and one by one they gave him their suggestions, but they were more outlandish than helpful, and he retorted to each one.

Tora said, “Buy him some beers.”

“What? No. Have you all forgotten that I’m only seventeen?”

Yaku said, “Sell yourself. I’m sure there’s at least one helpful thing you can do.”

“You do? Thanks. Not too sure about you, though.”

Kai said, “Just be...yourself.”

“Wait, what was that pause?”

Lev said, “What do you have to do an interview for? You’re sleeping with his son. Doesn’t he like you?”

“Okay, nice, but no. He doesn’t know about us, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.”

Inuoka said, “Give him some money.”

“Why the hell would I buy my way through a job?”

Kenma said, “These idiots aside, just tell him something you’re good at. Like karate.”

“Right, because I’m applying to be a bodyguard.”

He sighed and was reminded of Kuroo again, someone who probably would have given him better advice. Ignoring his complaints, the gang decided to dress him in a suit and have a practice interview with him. “I’m going to be his father,” Tora said, announcing the worst idea to their ears.

“Why...you? What about Kai-san?”

“Lev and I are the only ones who like role-playing, but he’d get too into character. You’re left with me.”

Tora began with, “State your name and age.”

“Tsukishima Kei, seventeen.”

“Why do you want to work here?”

“I’m organized, efficient and books are important to me.”

“Eh, good enough. What makes you stand out as an applicant?”

“I’m good at helping people find things.”

Tora and the other onlookers laughed. “First off, that phrasing needs work. Second, that was a complete lie.”

To him it wasn’t; he’d helped Yamaguchi with writing notes, finding missing clothes in his messy room, and picking out clothes to wear on dates. He didn’t feel like explaining himself, so he said, “Whatever. Just continue.”

“The real reason you want to work here is because of my son, right? How do you know him?”

“The easiest way I can explain it is childhood friends.”

“Okay. I know you’re dating, but for how long?”

He was getting a vibe from these questions he wasn’t liking. “Since February, and it’s May now, so...in two days it’ll be three months.”

“Good, good. Is it a respectful, kinky relationship?”

“The first one, sure. The second one is none of your business.”

“Not answering a question isn’t good, but fine.”

_It was a stupid question._

Tora pushed up his imaginary glasses (though Kuroo’s father didn’t wear any) and clicked his imaginary pen. “Last question. How many times have you done it?”

In that instant, not Tsukishima but Yaku punched him in the face. “I want to duct tape your mouth shut so that you won’t say stupid things,” he growled.

Lev called to him, “I have tape here!”

Yaku laughed. “You just carry that stuff around? Why are you so weird?”

Watching their banter and Tora’s demise made him think about the one stuck in a white room with a new scar; this time from the thing second to flame: a bullet.

 

His interview was on the same day as their three-month anniversary. But on the day before this, he ran into a problem: himself. He thought he was feeling better about the incident, but at school he was grumpier, less talkative (as in making snarky comments) and barely looking Yamaguchi in the eyes.

“Clearly, you’re not okay,” his friend said.

There was silence, so he grabbed his face and forced eye-contact. “What is going on in that brain of yours?”

“Half about how I have to fold Tetsu’s clothes because he sucks, and half about the past, I guess.”

Yamaguchi squeezed his cheeks. “The past? Is that all you ever think about?”

“No, that’s stupid.”

“Exactly. You won’t ever go anywhere like that.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I get that you feel guilty. But think about what you can do for him now, not what you couldn’t do.”

Tsukishima pulled away Yamaguchi’s hand. “Don’t squeeze my cheeks when you’re trying to make a point. Also, just what am I supposed to do with my anger, then?”

“I don’t know. Release it through knitting, or something.”

“ _Knitting?_ Who do you think I am?”

“Right. All you do is read and drink tea. How are you a gangster, again?”

“Yamaguchi.”

“Right, sorry. Come to my place and help me cook dinner. We can listen to ONE OK ROCK on repeat. That’ll help.”

He couldn’t say no to an offer like that.

On the way, the sun was setting and the streets were emptying. As they walked by a park, they saw a group of what seemed to be college students. There were five standing, looking down at a sixth curled up on the ground. The ones standing were laughing hysterically, with flushed faces and wobbly movements. Somehow, they still landed perfect hits on the sixth guy. “They’re drunk,” Yamaguchi said. “Let’s go.” Tsukishima held him back. He walked closer to them, dragging his freckled friend along. “What are you doing, Tsukki? This isn’t like you!”

“I don’t care. You told me to find a way to release my anger, right? Well, here’s my chance.” As he approached them, they stopped and turned to him with wide, wasted eyes. “You five. I’d appreciate it if you left the sixth alone. You’re disrupting our walk.”

“Who gives a fuck?” the tallest of them said.

He looked down at the sixth on the ground, whimpering. His wallet’s contents were loose and open. He looked back at the guy who just spoke and subconsciously glared. “I do. I’ve been having a crappy couple of weeks, and your existences made it worse.”

“You’re just a high school brat—”

He pulled back the right side of his body to build momentum as he kicked the guy straight in his nose. Immediately after, he went for another kick at another guy’s side. To Yamaguchi, it looked graceful as he moved his legs and arms in unison. It quickly became dirtier because the opponents were drunk, so he forced his way into the fight. His brain thumped against his skull, and he lost sight in his left eye. But this was more than okay for him since he helped his best friend.

After the college students ran off, the victim thanked them and escaped himself. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi had no idea what it was about, or who they were, but they knew why they did it and they felt the very excruciating pain in the aftermath. They lay on the sandbox, their faces towards the sky. The sun was almost completely gone.

The sun also reminded him of Kuroo. He was starting to hate how everything did.

“Are you better now?”

“Probably. Who knows?”

“You just want to see him, right?”

“...Yeah.”

“We’re stupid, aren’t we?”

“Definitely. You especially, for joining in. You’re student council.”

“And I can’t fight.”

They looked at each other with brighter eyes. Yamaguchi broke out into laughter, while Tsukishima pulled a small smile.

* * *

Instead of a cake, he went to the hospital with salted mackerel and rice. This was more Kuroo's alley. Along with these was a miswak stick for after his discharge. He went right after the interview that comprised mostly of talking about the Holmes series. Now that this happened, he enjoyed Kuroo's father.

When he walked in the room, he no longer felt anything but relief. Kuroo was still there, and that made him lighter. “Hey,” he said, though in his head it was “I love you.”

“Hey. What's with the suit? You look like a businessman. It's surprisingly attractive.”

“I had a job interview. And what do you mean, ‘surprisingly’?”

“Well, you’ve always had the look of a volleyball player to me.”

“That's weirdly specific.”

“Can't help it. By the way, I'm going to write a novel.”

Tsukishima gave him the miswak and opened the container of fish and rice. He tried not to make a mess due to his surprise. He'd suggested it to him, but he never thought he’d take it and make it his goal.

The thought of him being a writer made his heart race. He thought by now he’d been used to being with him, but there was always room for surprises. He didn't like them, but for a while now he stopped caring. He remembered he thought he couldn’t handle romance, but not long ago he realized what they had was much more than romance.

Kuroo kissed him on the cheek for the food. “I don't know what it's going to be about yet, but I know I'm going to do it. I'll need your help.”

“But what about all of this that's going on?”

“Am I someone who’d let that stop them?”

“No, but I won't be able to handle this again.”

“Who said it's going to happen again?” He sighed and cooed, “The boy I love is such a pessimist.” He leaned over and touched Tsukishima's face. “Part of me wants this to end so we can live quietly, but the other part is—”

“A gangster.” Tsukishima swallowed the lump in his throat. “I know.”

“I'm sorry.”

He looked directly at him then, sure of what to say. The sight of almost losing him was still fresh in his mind, so he wanted to say it for himself, so that he could calm the earthquake inside him. “I... y-you...”

While he mulled over not being able to say it, Kuroo already understood what he was trying to say. He knew he couldn't because he wasn't that type of person.

Even so, he didn't have to.


	19. Stray Cats

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A return from the (almost) dead, a heartfelt "favor" and how eight stray cats found a home.  
> This chapter isn't as long as previous ones, but I love it because it has both light and heavy elements. Enjoy.

The day of his discharge was a week into June. The boulder lifted from Tsukishima’s heart, and he could be himself again. There was little time for relief, however, because of the problems that remained. The most pressing one then was:

“Nii-san asked you about us?”

Kuroo looked down at his feet. “Yeah. I didn't want to tell you because I know you’d worry, then I’d worry, and nothing would get fixed.”

“But I'm tougher than you think.”

Kuroo looked at him with honest eyes. “Really? I think you're pretty tough already. It's just, he's your brother.”

He already knew that. How could he not? Akiteru tried to protect him from their father and from everything evil. To this day, he still tried. He wanted to tell Kuroo that he was also family, that he could not compare them. He wasn't going to let his older brother become a problem.

As they walked home, he realized he’d longed for the familiarity of Kuroo's rough, encompassing hands.

* * *

Tsukishima could honestly say almost everything was attractive about him. Even his birthmark and the fact that his second toes were longer than his big toes. But this was something entirely different. His laugh. It sounded like the combination of a hyena and a dying cat. When he would laugh for a few seconds he was okay, but when they’d watch a comedy film and he'd go on for minutes, his ears bled.

Before realizing this sad truth for the third time, the gang had welcomed them home with quality, cooked meat. At first, Lev told Tsukishima it was only for Kuroo but the latter argued that the two of them were a pair and you couldn't have one without the other.

Spicy foods disagreed with everything Tsukishima stood for, which were his model-worthy face and his pride. He didn’t realize the ribs were spicy until he did. His lips swelled and his face turned pink. As soon as Kuroo saw this (though he tried to hide his face), he remembered that Tsukishima was sensitive to spicy foods.

Then, instead of consoling him or getting him milk, he cackled. The boy in distress was reminded of why he thought he and Kuroo would never get along in the first place: his annoying personality. “Your—face—” he tried to say while laughing.

The rest of the gang held in their laughter, which was the wise choice, because Tsukishima then wet his hands and messed up Kuroo’s hair. His hair settled down instead of its mysterious way of sticking up. “That’s what you get for laughing,” Yaku instigated.

As Tsukishima headed towards their room down the hall (in frustration), Kuroo followed him, also upset. “You ruined my hair,” he said.

“I’m not apologizing. And don’t follow me.”

“Then don’t lure me over here.” Kuroo slammed the door behind them and immediately kissed him. “I’m still mad,” he breathed.

“Yeah.”

“But I really missed you.”

“Yeah.”

They impatiently undressed and kissed and Tsukishima accidentally bit down on Kuroo’s lip. Neither of them cared. Kuroo stroked his crotch and gently maneuvered his nipple with his tongue. Feeling him jolt put a smirk on his face. He loosened his hole with his fingers, going soft, then rough, then soft again. He captured each moment Tsukishima shuddered and each hot breath he echoed.

“Stop...messing with me, you idiot,” the victim uttered.

Kuroo took that as an okay to go in, so without hesitation he thrust himself inside. Tsukishima felt a static-like heat from his toes to his fingertips to his cheeks. For some reason, he was increasingly sensitive that day. Noticing this and taking advantage of it, Kuroo said, “Straddle me.”

These were two words he never wanted to hear. “No way. Why are you so ready straight out of the hospital?”

“Isn’t almost dying exactly why you should do me this favor?”

Truthfully, he didn’t mind. He was just embarrassed because he knew for sure he _didn’t_ know what he was doing. He sighed and sat on top of him. He found his groove as he straddled him, spreading his hands out on his chest. Surprisingly, as soon as he started, he didn't want to stop. He liked taking him in. He liked the view from above, the sight of the small hairs on Kuroo's tan chest and even the diagonal scar along his torso. His body reacted to this body; to the person attached to this body and the smile attached to this person.

But as soon as his eyes wandered to the scar from the gunshot wound, he froze. Kuroo, thinking he was just tired, sat up and finished the job, with Tsukishima’s arms wrapped around him and his consequent tears falling on his shoulder. He almost never cried, not even during sex, but it all came to him at once. He was submerged in a mixture of pleasure and everything else. It was something he didn’t want to feel again after this.

“Did—did I hurt you?” Kuroo asked him, mystified at the rare sight of him under no control of his emotions.

“You did,” he replied, “but not today. Yesterday, and the day before, and the week before that. I was in pain here.” He pointed to his chest.

“Kei...” Kuroo touched their foreheads and said, his voice cracking, “With you, I can see the world differently. I want to hold on to that feeling while I still can. I fight so that I can protect the things important to me—or else I’ll lose them again.”

He understood this, “But what, Tetsu? What is it you’re trying to protect us from? What is it you’re fighting for? Aren’t you...just angry at everything?”

Kuroo paused. He gripped Tsukishima’s hands. “I have a right to be, don’t I?”

“You do. I’m just saying that I don’t want to lose you because you let your anger take over and did something stupid.”

“That’s exactly why I have to continue this fight, so that I don’t lose to Daishou or myself.”

Tsukishima conceded. Another attractive thing about Kuroo was his intensity; how every word that came out of his mouth made you want to believe him (even if he broke his promises) and how looking into his eyes was like looking into a fire.

 

Kuroo didn’t know if it was diligence or boredom that prompted Tsukishima to get started on his summer vacation homework early. He still wanted to be at Tsukishima’s house more than his own, so he went over in the afternoon. He actually got there when he was washing dishes and watched him do so for a while.

“Why’d you come?” Tsukishima asked. “We can’t hang out.”

“It’s okay to be with you, though, right?”

As Kuroo spoke, his face shined in a way that made him speechless. “Yeah...”

“Then I’ll do that.” Kuroo noticed white suds on Tsukishima’s face and took the chance to kiss him on that spot.

“...What was that about?”

“There was some soap.”

 _So, you just kiss me?_ “I don’t understand your thought process.”

“You don’t have to.”

Afterwards, they went upstairs and Kuroo watched Tsukishima do his work. Unbeknownst to himself, he was distracting the studious boy. Owing to their closeness around the small floor table, his eyes reluctantly focused on Kuroo’s ears, eyelashes, lips, jawline and the collarbone under his hanging shirt.

As if they've never seen each other naked before, Kuroo was experiencing the same unrest. To shift from the slight awkwardness and simultaneously deal with it, he took Tsukishima’s book of physics practice questions and said, “Let me quiz ya.”

“Quiz me?” He was for the idea, until—

“For every question you get right, I’ll give you a kiss.”

“No.”

Kuroo had never been shot down so quickly before. “What? Whyy?”

Tsukishima looked at him from above his frames. “You and I both know I won’t be doing work anymore.”

Leering at him, he laughed. “I see. You can’t control your lust.”

The accused Tsukishima frowned in embarrassment. Just then, the doorbell rang from downstairs. He knew it wasn’t Akiteru or his mother because they had keys. When he opened the door and saw that it was the ever-wild Nekoma gang, he almost slammed it back closed. He didn’t want them in his home, disrupting his time alone with his work (and his boyfriend).

“Why are you all here?” he asked them.

“We were bored, and we know Banchou is with you,” Lev explained. “We went across the street first, but he wasn’t there.”

“We also brought snacks,” Tora added, as if food was going to sway him.

He didn’t deny them only because he considered that Kuroo might have wanted to see them. As he got a closer look at everyone, he saw someone new with Kenma. “Your cat?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’ve showed you a picture before, right? Her name is Tetsuka.” She was a black and grey cat with long whiskers and half-lidded, sea-green eyes.

He paused. “Tetsu...ka?”

“Yeah, you can guess who named her.” Kenma handed him his cat as if he was tired from carrying her.

When they went upstairs to his room, they found Kuroo sleeping on the floor. He was wearing the dinosaur hoodie he bought for Tsukishima. _Too comfortably,_ he thought. The others snickered at the scene. He lightly stepped on his stomach, but he hardly moved.

Hiding his minor disappointment, Tsukishima got back to work. However, it wasn’t for long because of Tora’s pestering. “Oi, Tsukki. Tsukki. Tsukishima. KEI!”

“What the hell do you want?” He let them in for someone who was asleep, so he could throw him out the window with no qualms.

“We were wondering if you wanted to hear a story.”

“Does it look like—”

“Well, actually, you don’t have a choice. We’re bored.”

 _Then leave,_ he fired back in his head. “What’s the story about?” he asked.

Yaku answered, “Us.”

* * *

Not even the weird thirteen-year-old kids back in their Tokyo neighborhood knew how to shoot a gun. Kenma was less terrified that Kuroo had a gun and more curious about why it was never loaded. When he asked him, he answered, “Nekomata doesn’t want me to ‘dirty my hands’ again, whatever that means.”

It was a given that he was glad to have Kuroo by his side in Miyagi. His parents were not so glad. At first they didn’t like Kuroo because he was too respectful for a child and had untrustworthy eyes. Then they didn’t like him because he killed a man in America. Kenma didn’t like _them_ most of the time because of their narrow minds.

Still, even he was thrown aback as he heard his friend speak of leading a gang. He could tell it was an unwavering goal, so he planned to stand by him through it all.

Kuroo met Yaku in the seventh grade. They both seemed to be hungry for something and drew together naturally. Yaku never liked going to the beach in the summer, so he was there only because his father dragged him. Kenma sat in the shade for most of their time there.

Yaku scavenged the water for jellyfish; he wanted to get stung so that they wouldn’t have to stay there. He noticed a boy with a strange hairstyle building a sandcastle that looked more like a fort. He watched him for a while, becoming somewhat attached to the sculpture himself, so he shared the boy’s frustration as the waves caught up to it.

They shouted in disappointment at the same time, and the boy turned to him immediately. He had good ears. “Did you see?” Kuroo asked Yaku.

“Y-yeah. It was tragic. You had a pretty good moat going.”

“I did, didn’t I?” He turned to another boy under the shade. “You hear that, Kenma? _Someone_ appreciates art!”

The boy replied with silence. He had a magazine covering his face, so Yaku assumed he was asleep. He didn’t know ignoring Kuroo was something Kenma did subconsciously.

“Oi, can you help me rebuild it?” the boy asked Yaku.

“Why do you want to?” He knew he didn’t want to, since that required work and precision he didn’t have. Yaku was secretly a slob, and it took a while for Lev, of all people, to accept that side of him.

“Not all of it is gone, and I don’t like leaving things half-assed.”

Therefore, Yaku was forced to make a sandcastle with a strange, dishonest-looking boy underneath a garish sunlight. They argued their way through it because of their aesthetic differences (even though they were only thirteen), but came out with an acceptable result.

Yaku returned to the waves with the stranger following and not long after he felt the painful sting of a jellyfish. Kuroo at first laughed at his high-pitched scream, but then came to his rescue. He lifted him with ease and carried him to a more secluded area. He immediately pulled down his swim trunks.

Waving his hands in the air, Yaku exclaimed, “What are you doing?!”

“Ah? Don’t you know that urine helps ease the burn? Just close your eyes if you don’t want to see, shortie.”

“Who’re you calling—” At the tender age of thirteen, Yaku experienced the thin line between life and death and utter embarrassment.

Afterwards, Kuroo helped him find his father. “See ya, shortstop!” he exclaimed.

“I don’t like baseball, you moron!” Yaku fired back. He thought that was the last they were going to see of each other until he learned their fathers became friends. The second time, which was at the bookstore, Kuroo pulled no punches in getting Yaku to join him. Because he had nothing better to do, he accepted.

Kuroo and Kai were in the same class all throughout middle school. They both sat by the window and sometimes listened to music during class. Completely different from how he was now, he was withdrawn and spaced out often. In bringing him out of his comfort zone, Kuroo started with music.

It took him three months for him to start a conversation on his own, but after warming up to each other, Kuroo learned that Kai tended to get in fights after school. It was mainly because of the way he looked at other people, albeit unintentional.

“You don’t have to fix your face,” he told him. “Just be yourself. Don’t change just so that shallow jackasses won’t fight you. As long as you’re a teenager, someone is going to want to fight ya.”

They were odd words: have advice and half the plain truth. So how were they the most encouraging thing he’d heard since he was born? Kai figured that fighting with someone like him would be better than doing it alone.

Kai had a place where he escaped to whenever he was tired of others or himself. He also simply liked the smell of wine, so that abandoned basement was the perfect place for him. After meeting Yaku and Kenma, he brought them there.

“This would be a perfect hideout,” Kuroo said as he pumped his fist on Kai’s chest. It was his way of thanking him.

That night, the four of them went to the bridge to go diving. It was the first time for all of them so Kuroo had to push Kenma over manually.

Next was Tora. The underground community already knew his name, being someone who fought anything and everyone and never lost. Until he met Kuroo. After his loss, he bowed to him and coined the “Banchou” title for him. He was the young blood the gang needed, even though Kuroo was in between love and hate for his mohawk.

Inuoka had attended the same middle school as Kuroo, Kai and Kenma. He stood out to no one and had very little presence overall. Kuroo only saw him when he was with Kenma. So, why did he want him? It wasn’t because he’d self-pierced his ears or that he was an avid baseball fan. It definitely wasn’t because he had “dog” in his name. It was because the guy could sing like Frank Sinatra and carried a wooden baseball bat almost everywhere. It was as if he waited for a fight every day.

He, like the rest of them, was in a ceaseless battle with themselves and the world.

Not long after, Lev was caught stalking Yaku from the grocery store, and after that a certain blonde with glasses encountered Kuroo in a bookstore.

* * *

Back at the Tsukishima abode, Tora was two steps away from hitting Tsukishima awake. “He fell asleep, while we were talking! Let me hit him once!”

He had fallen sleep sometime during Kai’s story. As he’d drifted, his body leaned towards Kuroo. They moved around a lot, trying to get comfortable, and ended up in each other’s arms.

Lev and Yaku snickered, taking pictures of them to use later. Kai and Kenma rummaged through the kitchen for snacks as compensation for being bad hosts, while Inuoka held Tora back from hitting them. “It’s getting late, so we should leave,” he said. “We intruded in the first place. Let them sleep together.”


	20. Come Hell or High Water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have returned, friends. There are six chapters left (I'm in between "it's about time" and "noo")!  
> Cat searching, fathers, a summer festival, fights, and Bokuto.  
> Enjoy.

“I'm telling you, you lost the cat.”

“And I'm telling you that it wasn’t me. It was you. Ken-san told you to watch her.”

“Yeah, sure, when I was half asleep.”

Like this, they went back and forth until Tsukishima gave up and said he lost Kenma’s cat. The truth of the matter was that he and Kuroo were only half awake when Kenma left Tetsuka at his house, saying that she missed Kuroo and wanted to stay with him. Tsukishima knew him, so he knew it was just an excuse to not have to carry his cat home.

“Tetsuka,” Tsukishima called. He didn't like raising his voice, so he didn't.

“Oi, cat!” Kuroo called.

“That's not her name. I thought you named her.”

“I did, but it feels weird because she has part of my name.”

He was going to ask him why he didn't think about that before giving the cat a name, but he remembered that although Kuroo was smart, he didn't think when it mattered.

They searched the area for about ten minutes before going farther. Reaching the mouth of a hiking area, they found the cat snacking on some scraps. Tsukishima lifted her and held her to Kuroo's face. “She's just like you. Anything for food,” he said.

Turning pink in his cheeks, he muttered, “Not true.”

Just then, Tsukishima looked up. What he saw wasn’t a sunset. It was the glimpse of the sun and the presence of the moon. Almost vindictive of the darkness, there was an ocean wave of gold that covered the sky. It made sure it was bright and brilliant and only for a few people to see.

Not many things could make Tsukishima speechless, except when Kuroo tried on the jockstrap, and now this. He tapped Kuroo, who was petting the cat. He looked up as well, the sky reflected in his eyes. He said, “I think they call it an afterglow, or something.”

Tsukishima looked at him and saw that the expression on his face wasn’t awe. It was as if something had struck him. An epiphany. “What happened?” he asked.

He seemed to not have realized he was suddenly quiet. “No, I...I think I know what to write about.”

Tsukishima didn’t understand how an afterglow inspired him, but he had too long of a day to ask why yet. For now, the seeing the break in his usual poker face form into a smile was good enough.

* * *

Kuroo knew his boyfriend was more than capable of getting red-faced and losing his cool. He knew that his anger was like a blood moon; rare but intimidating. He also knew that only a few things in the world made him feel this way: people who claimed dinosaurs never existed, his father and himself.

Preoccupied with phone calls from Daichi and Bokuto about the Nohebi scrimmage and his almost death, he at first didn’t notice Tsukishima storm in the base. He marched up to Tora, stole his carton of orange juice and started chugging it. No one aside from Kuroo dared to ask him what happened. “Who badmouthed dinosaurs, and do I have to beat them up?” he said.

“I wish it were that,” he replied sourly. “I met my dad today.”

Kuroo stopped. His expression told the gang that it wasn’t to be taken lightly. For the first time, he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to comfort him, or if he even needed it, or if he should say anything at all. But Tsukishima looked at him as if he wanted him to say something. “I’ll listen,” he said.

He started with how his mother forced him to visit the man in prison. As their conversations usually began, it was over breakfast. It was supposed to be a normal morning, and it was, until she dropped her smile and said his name.

 _“Kei.”_ His mother's tone was heavy and firm.

_“Yeah?”_

_“Don't you think it's time?”_

He knew exactly what she meant by this, but it didn't mean he acknowledged it. _“No,”_ he said adamantly. _“I told him I never wanted to see him again.”_

She eventually broke his resolve by saying that she would buy him a new, _round_ pair of glasses frames. He’d always wanted frames closer to Harry Potter, but the instant he reached the prison center he realized her bluff.

He walked into a building with no color. Its walls were bare and brown, with smells of mayonnaise and luncheon meat in the air. He followed the built, round-headed guard to a table with two chairs.

He sat first, alone, then his father came from behind a clear wall. He looked down until he sat, when he faced his son for the first time in nine years. His hair, almost completely white, covered his arched eyebrows. His eyes were glossed and yellow and tired.

Silence. Tsukishima glared. All he wanted to do was hit him with something.

His father's lips curved. _“My son,”_ he said, _“you came.”_

_“Thank mom. Or, wait, would you?”_

His father ignored his taunt. _“How have you been? What've you been up to?”_

_“I made some friends, got into some fights.”_

He sighed in relief, as if he was afraid he wasn’t living a normal teenage life. They talked about school and that he interviewed for a job. Then, his father asked the essential question: _“Do you have a girlfriend?”_

 _“No,”_ Tsukishima answered. He, strangely, was enjoying this. He couldn't wait to see the expression of horror on his father's face when he’d say it. He couldn’t wait to tell him he had no say in the matter. _“But I have a boyfriend.”_

To his dismay, his father only raised his eyebrows. He didn’t laugh or raise his voice in any way. _“A...boyfriend? Are you serious?”_

His question was legitimate; the son knew his father meant whether their relationship was serious. He reluctantly answered, after a bout of silence, _“Yeah.”_

_“I see. That’s good, then. I hope he treats you well.”_

Tsukishima didn’t expect to lose himself first. He never thought that his father would infuriate him for doing his job. He never saw himself being dragged out of a prison because he’d started a scene, releasing pent-up frustration.

To his relief, he didn’t have to explain to Kuroo why he became upset, because he told him, “I don’t get it. Why does he decide to act like a father now, when he can’t even be close to you? Where was this nine years ago?”

Sitting on the floor, still holding Tora’s orange juice, Tsukishima buried his face between his legs. “I don’t understand,” he said, “I don’t understand him. I don’t like things I can’t understand.”

“I don't think you’re supposed to be able to understand everything. But I’m sure being locked up in a prison cell for years made him put everything in retrospect.”

He continued, “I think about it sometimes, too. Like what would happen if I had killed my mom's boyfriend intentionally and went to prison. How different would I be? I definitely wouldn't have fallen for you. Or anyone.”

Tsukishima had no words; his wounds always seemed trivial to Kuroo's scars, but he knew that if he were to say such a thing, the latter would get upset. “You think about stuff like that?” he asked.

“Sometimes,” he answered, “but I don’t get very far because I end up thinking about you in silk.”

The reflection of light blocked Tsukishima’s shocked eyes. “...Should I be worried?”

“No...?”

He still was.

After listening to Tsukishima and remembering old advice from Bokuto, Kuroo resolved himself to have a civil conversation with his own father. It would be the first one in a long time. He didn’t know how to start or what to talk about, so he decided to talk about Tsukishima.

“You met Kei, right?” he asked him the next morning.

His father paused, looking down at a stack of books. “I did. He applied to work here last month,” he said. “He’s been working while you were in the hospital.”

Kuroo wasn’t aware of this, because it happened while he was out of commission. “He did? Why didn’t he tell me? Why _here_?”

His father frowned, “That isn’t something you should ask me.” His expression then softened. “But, if anything, I’m sure it was for you.”

* * *

The summer festival at the end of August was something the gang had always avoided until this year. What they avoided was the presence of almost everyone they knew.

It started with Yaku, who said he was going for the food, to Lev who said he was going to see Yaku in a yukata. By default, if Yaku was going to do something, as were Kuroo and Kai (unless it was hiking in the mountains). And if they were going, so was everyone else.

“Are you going to wear a yukata, too?” Kuroo asked Tsukishima.

“Sure,” he answered, to everyone's surprise. He would have declined, but then Kuroo would sulk and complain, so he'd change his mind anyway.

They met at the entrance. His yukata, which his mother tied for him, was green with some yellow on the sides and black at the edges. Kuroo's was mostly red. Yaku and Lev accidentally wore the same one, but in different sizes.

“Ravishing,” Kuroo said to the one in green.

He winced at his words, since he was using an annoyingly sophisticated word for no reason. He tried to ignore that he was complimenting his appearance, and that made his heart contract.

“You couldn't think of any other word?” he said.

“Nope,” he replied boldly.

He first dragged Tsukishima to the takoyaki stand. He fed him, though he felt embarrassed being fed. Kuroo wanted him to do the same, but he should have known it wasn’t going to happen.

Then they went to the goldfish scooping stand, and after that the shooting stand. To Kuroo's surprise, Tsukishima used a gun as if he'd used one for years. Sometimes, he frightened him.

“I can get a prize,” he said. “What do you want?”

“Are you talking to me?” Kuroo asked. It was rare that Tsukishima asked that question, since it was usually the other way around.

“Please, tell me if there’s another Tetsurou I should know about,” he deadpanned.

“Ha. Very funny. The black cat key chain, then,” he said.

“...Of course.”

When they took a break, Kuroo went to the bathroom. Tsukishima was alone on a bench, and as if the perfect timing arose, someone confronted him. The person he looked up and saw was someone he immediately wanted to kick in the face.

“Look at who’s here,” he said sarcastically, “It’s nice to see you again.”

Daishou, standing beside Kuguri, replied, “You’re Tsukishima Kei, right? Kuro’s boyfriend.”

He tried to ignore that they seemed to only acknowledge him as such. “I don't really want to talk to you guys, so could you leave me alone?”

“We could,” said Daishou, “but we wanted to tell you that I didn’t intend to kill him. He was just getting on my nerves, with that big mouth of his.”

“He does have a big mouth. And an annoying cackle.”

“See? You understand. So, no hard feelings?”

Tsukishima still wanted to kick him four times over, but he said, “There are no hard feelings.”

“So, where is he? Can I talk to him?”

“No.”

Daishou was perplexed, but Tsukishima's expression of stone didn't change. “I thought you said there were no—”

“I did. But you won't be seeing him.”

“Why?”

He stood up from the bench and faced him head on. “Because I’m stopping you here.”

The two snakes looked at him as if this wasn’t within their calculations. It wasn’t in his own plan either; if you were to ask him what he was thinking about when he said this then he would say, “Nothing.” He would also suggest that it was someone else possessing him and saying those things. Daishou smiled, Kuguri stepped to the side. Now that he was closer, Tsukishima saw the pain in his face. Still, he had no hesitation in his right hook to that face. Daishou responded with an uppercut that made his head quiver. As he was seeing three of Daishou’s faces, one of them hit him in the stomach, again and again.

Tsukishima coughed. He was lucky he didn’t see any blood, but Daishou immediately kicked him down on the ground, his face scraped against the gravel. Then, he felt blood drip from his forehead. Now, he was annoyed. He was going to have to explain this to Kuroo somehow, and that irritated him. Through his annoyance, he got up from under Daishou’s foot and grabbed his leg. He gripped his leg tightly and threw him over the bench.

Kuguri from the sidelines whistled, “Amazing.”

Tsukishima faced him. “For now...just stay away...”

He didn’t comply, but he took Daishou, who was still conscious, from behind the bench and they left.

Tsukishima sat for a while before Kuroo returned, though he didn’t come from the bathroom, he came from another food stand. “When I left the bathroom, I saw this,” he explained, holding out a piece of shortcake. “Want it?” he asked.

Then, as he looked at him it registered in his brain that he was hurt. His smile disappeared, he set the cake down and smoothed his fingers over Tsukishima’s face. “What the hell?” he uttered from the depths of his voice. His hair shadowed over his glaring eyes. “Who did this to you?”

Just then, the fireworks went off. They popped in the sky, exploding like flowers. Sitting on the bench, Tsukishima saw that light reflect off Kuroo’s face as he stood in front of him. He didn’t want him to know. Despite his aching stomach, his swollen cheek and the red river from his forehead, he didn’t want to tell him the truth. It would only set the already tense situation afire, and he wanted them to be at peace for a while longer.

“Some guys looking for money,” he said instead. “I set them straight, though.”

“Your glasses are broken,” Kuroo said, not letting up his anger. “I’ll buy you a new pair.”

“...You know this wasn’t your fault, right?” he felt he had to ask.

“Right.”

He was sure saying that one word took a lot out of him. “Okay.”

 

Keeping the incident a secret didn’t last long. It lasted well into September, but Tsukishima didn’t know someone saw him fight until that person confronted him in the bathroom. “Do you really not plan on telling him?” Lev asked him. “I think he deserves to know.” Most of the time, the words that came out of his mouth weren’t so mature, leading Tsukishima to think Yaku told him what to say.

“How did you see, anyway? We were in a deserted area,” he said.

“Well, I was looking for the bathroom when I saw it. I would’ve made it worse if I went out there, so I didn’t do anything. Sorry.”

“So you’re saying I should tell him? What about making it worse?”

At first, it seemed like Lev didn’t know how to respond, but then he said, “It’ll be worse if someone else tells him. In a relationship, I think, your pain is his pain.”

Following the silence, the next person in the bathroom with Tsukishima was Kuroo himself. “Lev told me you wanted to tell me something.”

He swallowed his uncertainties and worries. “Remember when I got in a fight at the summer festival?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it wasn’t some random guys. I fought with Daishou. He and Kuguri were looking for you, so I kind of...” Saying this, he was looking at the floor tiles instead of Kuroo’s face. He knew the expression he was making.

It wasn’t pretty. “Of course they were. Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“Listen. I landed the first hit. I didn’t let them talk to you.”

Kuroo was barely listening. He repeated, “Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“I knew you would go and fight him, that’s why. And I didn’t want that to happen.”

“Bullshit,” Kuroo muttered, though loud enough for Tsukishima to hear.

They both seemed surprised he said this. However, he still responded in kind: “No, it’s perfectly reasonable shit. I know you have to fight him sooner or later, but at that time, I was only thinking about us. At the festival.”

“If you told me all of this then, I would understand.”

Tsukishima tried to hold back his snicker, but failed. “No you wouldn’t. I saw your face then. You looked like you wanted blood.”

“Oi!” he exclaimed. Tsukishima pinned himself against the bathroom wall. It was the first time he seriously raised his voice at him. “Take that back.”

He realized the error in his words, especially since Kuroo was still sometimes haunted by his hands that did kill someone before. “Sorry,” he said.

Then, Kuroo also realized what he’d just done. He left the bathroom loudly, also leaving the base. He slammed the door as he left. The gang had only heard Kuroo’s shout, but they knew the gist of the situation. They crowded around the still Tsukishima in the bathroom. “You know you should go after him, right?” Yaku told him.

“Before he leaves on his motorcycle and goes to rant about it to Bokuto,” Kenma added.

“I’m pretty sure fights are normal in a relationship that’s working,” Inuoka also added.

“What do you guys know?” Tsukishima said jokingly, forcing down the smile creeping up on his face. He realized then that he appreciated these guys. However, even as he left in a hurry, he found that Kuroo was already gone.

 

While riding to Bokuto’s place, Kuroo remembered that Tsukishima’s eighteenth birthday was in a couple of weeks. This frustrated him further because he was still mad, but he also wanted to celebrate it.

Since he was riding to Tokyo, his mind wandered through different untouched thoughts to pass time. He was going to see an old friend for some desperately needed advice, and he recalled how they became friends, into their fling, then friends again.

* * *

Kuroo thought he would never like Bokuto Koutarou. Ever since they met and fought, Bokuto came to Miyagi to see him, often for no real reason. Kuroo’s gang found it suspicious, but figured Bokuto was too much of a simpleton to have an ulterior motive. They saw how well the two got along, and were open-minded enough to think that there may have been something more.

They were right on the money.

Kuroo didn’t realize it right away, but when he first saw Bokuto in that alley, he found him attractive (despite his hair style). It was the same for Bokuto, but this latent sexual tension channeled into their fighting and bickering. That is, until Kuroo visited him in Tokyo one day, and instead of a normal greeting, Bokuto kissed him.

“What was that?” he asked him. “Did you want to do that?”

Bokuto looked in different directions, turning pink. “I...uh...” Kuroo didn’t let him finish; he grabbed his face and took his lips in. That day, they were thankful that their respective gangs weren’t there, even though they would find out eventually.

Like this, whenever they met in one place or another, they released everything; anger, happiness, desire. Kuroo would complain to him about his father and Bokuto would always tell him that he’d regret it if he never fixed things.

Bokuto’s existence made Kuroo realize his sexuality, and vice versa. Even though they weren’t in love, they still loved each other.

This is what Bokuto said to Kuroo when he told him they had to break their relationship off. Kuroo was more devastated than he thought he’d be. “Why?” he asked.

Bokuto looked away with a flushed face again, though this time Kuroo felt something was different. “His name is Akaashi.”

He should have known.

It took him some time, but eventually he became able to root for the stubborn pair. He realized that what those two had was real even though they didn’t seem to realize it themselves.

Just when he thought there was no hope left for him and his gay, seventeen-year-old self, he met someone on the roof of his school whose glasses changed his world. When he asked him his name, he said he was “No one.” He immediately knew he was going to be difficult, as he was the antisocial type. But there was something about him that made him want to know more. He wanted to know what his skin felt like, the color of his eyes close-up, his likes and his dislikes. Even when he realized that they had met years earlier over summer break, he knew he would be interested in him regardless.

* * *

When Kuroo finally arrived at Bokuto’s apartment, the person who answered the door didn’t look like the usual loud owl. It looked like a person who had lost everything; with droopy hair, tired eyes, wrapped in a blanket. Right before Kuroo could ask him what happened, another person came from the staircase.

It was the one person he wasn’t ready to see. “K-Kei? What are you doing here?”

Tsukishima pushed up his glasses (the new pair that Kuroo bought that looked the same as his old ones). “Isn’t it obvious? I came for you. I took the bullet train, so I got here earlier, but it took me a while to find this place.” He walked over to him and saw what he was seeing.

“Koutarou, what happened?” Kuroo asked his friend.

He sighed and said, “Akaashi’s in the hospital. A car accident. He isn’t awake yet.”


	21. Hand-Picked Marigolds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story of how Bokuto and Akaashi confronted a bear and fell in love. The song is "Chemicals" by Tigers Jaw.  
> I had a horrible sleep last night because it's basically summer and bugs are everywhere, so my eyes hurt but I felt determined to post the chapter. Enjoy.

Kuroo and Tsukishima invited themselves inside. Tsukishima made coffee to ease Bokuto enough so he could explain what happened, but he only stared at the full cup of coffee as if it were empty. Coffee reminded him of Akaashi, who drank it religiously.

“Hey,” Kuroo said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Right, sorry. It was a car accident. I was heading to his place later than usual because I did overtime. His landlord told me he went out to buy something and hadn't returned, and he didn't pick up my calls. Then, I got the call from his mother.”

“But, Akaashi is careful. How did he not see the car?” Kuroo asked.

“It was raining. He's not good with rain, and he was recovering from a cold, so...”

“Hah? Then why did he leave in the first place?”

Bokuto paused. He already knew the answer to this, but it was the reason why he was so withdrawn. "He went to buy me a ring.”

“A ring?” Tsukishima asked. He almost glanced at Kuroo, though he didn’t know why.

“The anniversary of the day we met was in June,” he explained, “but he's been trying to get enough to buy a ring for a while.”

Knowing the story, the two paused on their discord and went out to buy dinner ingredients. They weren’t going to let Bokuto starve, despite his reluctance to let them leave.

They bought the ingredients for homemade curry in silence. They’d point out to the other if they saw something interesting, but that was all. They did agree, though, on buying Akaashi a box of Pocky, a rather advanced coloring book and chocolate (that they did not realize had bourbon inside).

Bokuto, at home, was slowly drinking the coffee. He liked his with milk and sugar, while Akaashi always had his black. He could never understand why he liked it. He never understood why Akaashi liked him.

* * *

He was an alien who crash landed on Earth.

While he had despised being called such, Bokuto found it endearing coming out of Akaashi Keiji’s mouth.

Even if it was meant to be an insult.

“It’s like you’re from another planet,” he said to him. “What are you doing here?”

“Here” he heard as “on Earth.” He didn’t know how to respond, mainly because he didn't understand what he was trying to say. These were strange first words that wouldn’t have happened if his homeroom teacher hadn’t told him to show the transfer student around, despite being in a different grade. The transfer student had short dark hair that looked like a fluffy pile of feathers. He had narrow eyes that were in between dark blue and gray, and small lips that were a shade of pi—

Wait.

Why was he even looking at his lips?

“This is exactly what I mean, Bokuto-san. Why are you spacing out again? You’ve been like this as soon as you saw me,” the transfer student said to him. His voice was muddy and murky, like the color of his eyes.

“Ah, sorry, sorry. Hey! What was your name again?” Bokuto exclaimed. He knew he had to stop staring, but every feature of his was just _asking_ to be admired.

He looked at him in fatigue. He sighed, “This is the _third_ time, but it’s Akaashi Keiji. Please remember it this time.”

The last stop was the gym. As soon as he stepped in, Akaashi’s eyes looked different. They were rounded with curiosity and excitement, and Bokuto realized that he was fifteen after all.

Afterwards, they would greet each other in the cafeteria and the gym, where Akaashi often spent his time. Bokuto didn’t understand why he liked it so much, especially because of the everlasting stench of sweat and the principal’s blood, from when he got hit in the face with a volleyball.

One time, he saw him in the garden. He wasn’t admiring it; he was working in it. He wore a blue apron and yellow gloves. Bokuto saw his sweat and determination, but least expected it to be over _flowers._ It was a little bit handsome. Akaashi noticed him staring, and said, “You’re doing it again.”

Trying to be himself as much as possible, he said, “Hey! Was I? I didn’t realize. W-what are ya doing there?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m planting flowers.”

“What kind?”

This, he seemed to hesitate on saying. “Marigolds.” After a pause, he continued, “It must be weird. A guy who likes growing flowers.”

“Of course not!” he suddenly shouted. “People like the beauty of flowers, but how many are willing to dirty their hands to grow them?!” Realizing he went too far in his enthusiasm, he covered his face with his shirt, but he worried that the heat in his face showed through.

“What are you doing?” Akaashi said softly, behind what sounded like a snicker. “You really are strange.” He sat Bokuto down and had him listen to his plant knowledge.

Bokuto realized that he’d never enjoyed listening to someone talk for so long without understanding that they were saying. He caught himself in this, and it pained his heart. Because that meant he would have to go to his best friend and tell him that they couldn’t be together anymore.

 

Later that year, Akaashi discovered Bokuto’s gang by sight. The Fukurodani base was dangerously close to his home. Whether it was a foreboding premonition or an unlucky coincidence, Akaashi had been thinking about him prior. He was thinking that he would never let him find out that he planted marigolds because they reminded him of Bokuto’s gold eyes.

Never.

In the midst of his thoughts, he saw a hole in the wall building that had clearly been abandoned. Still, he heard noises coming from inside. One of those noises was the most distinct voice he knew. In his curiosity, he invited himself inside.

Everything stopped and everyone turned to him. Bokuto was there, frozen in shock, while the others: a short boy, a beady eyed boy, and one with a strange smile, seemed somewhat disinterested.

Bokuto jumped up. “Akaashi? What are you doing here? What—”

“My house is nearby,” he said. “And I heard your voice.”

Reluctantly, Bokuto explained the gang to him. He said that there were a couple more members than the four of them, that they had some allies three hours away, and that the snakes were their biggest threat.

Akaashi was listening to him, but he was somewhat regretting walking in on them. He didn’t like conflict. He would soon learn, though, that he’s had a fighter’s instinct in him for years.

 

For Christmas, when Akaashi asked him if he was going to spend it with his parents or the gang, he immediately answered with, “The gang. Or Tetsurou’s gang.”

The Akaashi earlier that year would have let that statement slide, without asking any other questions. But this Akaashi was different. Something in him told him to hold onto Bokuto; to not let him drift away and fall from the cracks in sidewalks. He was the type of person who would fall from them. “What do you mean? Do you not spend it with your family?”

Bokuto looked at him, possibly to see if he was going to let it go. He wasn’t. “You see, I…my parents are adoptive. I’ve been tracing leads to find my birth parents. Every Christmas, I follow those leads, but I get nowhere.”

“...So, have you given up?”

“No...”

“Then, do you want me to go with you?”

Bokuto paused. He turned slightly red, as some other intention seemed to be floating in his head.

Akaashi felt the need to say, “You know this isn’t a _date_ , right?”

“Why would it be?!” he replied, turning redder.

He felt that seeing Bokuto like this was all in his imagination. There was no need for him to be embarrassed because of his words, right?

The lead that Bokuto had led them to the boonies. There was a house next to the forest where the road ended, but even that reeked of vacancy. What kind of person lived so far from the rest of civilization?

As they entered the house with caution, it was a relief that no one was inside. It wasn’t well kept, and the smell of multiple dead rodents didn’t go away even with the door open. The only good smells were the unlit candles. They sat on the creaking wooden floor and waited for something. For someone. For anything. Akaashi sat drinking his lukewarm coffee.

Somehow, them being alone reminded Akaashi of the Christmas present he’d gotten Bokuto. It sat in his pocket. “Hey. Uh, I have something that’ll improve the smell.”

“Oh? What?”

He took out from his pocket a bottle of cologne. “Merry Christmas, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto’s reaction was slow, but went through different stages: confusion, surprise, happiness, then guilt. “I left your present at hooomee!” he cried. “It was a watch, but still. Damn, how did I leave it?”

“I mean, a ‘thank you’ would suffice.”

“Right, right. Sorry. Thank you.” He sprayed it on his wrists. When he sniffed it, his face paled.

“What, does it smell bad?”

“Not bad, but...weird? It’s like a combination of cinnamon and roses and...pineapple?”

“Wow. It’s customized, you know. They let me make it. But I don’t know how chemicals work, so...”

Bokuto grinned. It was dark in the house, but he could see his face so clearly. “It’s great, Akaashi.” Akaashi was so pleased with himself that he would do this for him for the next few Christmases, until it got old.

After a while, he said, “Hey, it’d be pretty funny if your birth parents lived here.”

Bokuto chuckled. “Actually, you’re right.”

Just then, a figure stormed into the house. Bokuto immediately shielded Akaashi with his body. However, what they thought was a person was instead a large, furry animal. It was a bear.

“A-Akaashi...let’s get out of here...” Bokuto stuttered.

The bear closed in on them, but Akaashi was surprisingly calm. _Maybe_ , he thought, _it’s because of Bokuto-san_. “Spray the cologne in his eyes,” he told him. “Then we’ll run for it.”

Bokuto did as he was told, the bear roared, and he grabbed Akaashi’s arm as they ran out of the mysterious house. “What about your parents?” Akaashi exclaimed. His voice shook as they ran.

“I don’t know!” he called back. “But it’s alright if I don’t know! I have you!”

 _I guess this is what friends are for_ , he thought. Somehow, while he was glad to be close enough to Bokuto where they could escape a bear together, there was something that crossed his mind.

What if he wanted more?

 

Akaashi awakened as a fighter in the middle of his second year. Bokuto in his denseness took many days to realize that it was because of him. If he hadn’t gone with Kuroo to fight with Nohebi, only to not return even after a week, then Akaashi wouldn’t have went with Komi to go after him. He wouldn’t have caught them planning a raid, and he wouldn’t have tagged along.

He certainly wouldn’t have gone straight for Daishou.

Bokuto shouted at him to stop, but he didn’t listen. His fists were his sails and his legs his anchors. He later told Bokuto that he was angry with whoever hurt him, and he wasn’t being himself.

As an apology for going off on his own, Akaashi picked some of the marigolds from the school garden and handed them to him. Since he picked them by hand, his pale hands were washed with dirt, but Bokuto saw the pink in his ears. When he accepted them, Akaashi smiled, and he realized that he was deeply in love.

 

It wasn’t until Akaashi’s third year that they realized they had to stop dancing around their feelings and finally lay them out in the open. Akaashi had gotten kidnapped by Nohebi, and Bokuto called Nekoma for backup in rescuing him. After Tsukishima retrieved him, Bokuto held him for the first time. He wrapped his muscular arms around his body that had stopped quivering. Akaashi learned he only felt completely safe in his arms. His arms that held him without the intention of ever letting go.

 

Then, when it came time for Akaashi to graduate, they ran into a problem: themselves. Bokuto became quiet and withdrawn after he mentioned college, which was a bad habit of his.

“I don’t get it! Why aren’t you saying ‘go ahead’ or ‘don’t go’? Why aren’t you saying anything at all, Bokuto-san?”

Instead of words, which weren’t his forte, Bokuto decided to resort to action. He held Akaashi’s face in his hands and didn’t get a good look at the surprise in his face because he collided their lips. He kissed him with as much restraint as possible, but also with all the memories they shared surfacing his heart.

Restraint became a foreign word as he slipped his tongue in. Akaashi didn’t push him away; he did the opposite by pulling him in and taking his lips, his everything.

When they stopped to breathe, Bokuto said, “I didn’t want to say ‘don’t go’.”

Instead, he ended up saying everything else.

* * *

Bokuto, in his denseness, took days to realize that love was something not so easily understood. There were not always reasons as to _why,_ because it often became about that person and everything about them.

Then, his phone rang.

When Kuroo and Tsukishima returned, he pushed them aside as he ran outside. He didn't notice that he was wearing his clogs with his pajamas, and his hair wasn't done. “He’s awake!” he shouted. They ran to the hospital with him. Even though they went with him, there was no place for them in that hospital room. Not with the ring and the crying and the kissing. The two of them only saw each other.

Tsukishima watched Kuroo walk outside and followed him. He took him by the hand. “Wait,” he said.

Kuroo turned around. His expression softened. “Oh. About before...I'm really sorry.”

How did Tsukishima feel most comfortable saying those words now, when their friend was just in an emotional crisis and they were in the aftermath of an argument? Why did he feel a sudden wave of emotion? Was it because they were in a hospital, and everything was emotional in a hospital?

With his eyebrows converging, his eyes glossing over, and a flush of heat in his face, he said, “I love you.”

Kuroo’s half-lidded eyes went wide. He thought he knew this already, but hearing the words come out of his beautiful, sarcastic mouth renewed him. “I, uh...I—”

Tsukishima held his finger up to Kuroo’s lips. “I know, already.”

He laughed.


	22. Landslide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the beginning of the climax, the beginning of the end. I wrote some beach sin and Tsukki in silk. The song is Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody" (love this song!!). Enjoy.

After that, they were fine. Tsukishima claimed he would probably never say those words again. He said it was a fluke, but Kuroo would never forget the way his eyes reflected the light of the moon and his face looked as hot as the sun.

On the way back home, after giving Bokuto and Akaashi their wishes, they realized they still had the curry ingredients and decided to make it at Kuroo's home. They also remembered that Tsukishima was turning eighteen soon, and one of them wanted to have a celebration. The other one only cared about the shortcake and sleeping in.

But somehow, Kuroo managed to convince him. He told him that it was going to be the best celebration ever. He heard “best” as “wildest.”

Nonetheless, he somewhat looked forward to it, which is why he was nearly infuriated when the party planner went missing that day.

They slept together the night before, so he must have left that morning. Tsukishima tried to hide his frustration and disappointment, in that he expected him to be the first one to wish him a happy birthday.

He got to tell his mother that she was first, which, considering the meaning of the day, was better.

Instead of going to the gang, he went to Yamaguchi. They played video games for a full three hours before the host kicked him out, saying he should go find his boyfriend.

When he went to the base, the guys were all there except for the one in question. He asked them about it, and they gave different responses:

Yaku said, “Yesterday he said something about China. Or Chinese food?”

Lev exclaimed, “No, no, it was the beach!”

Kenma said, “What are you guys talking about? He said he was going to re-watch the entire third season of Detective Zero.”

“He wouldn't do that without Tsukishima,” Kai interjected, “Besides, he said something about a red moon.”

Having lost the patience to listen to anyone else (though Tora seemed to be holding something back), Tsukishima left them. He went to work instead, not knowing of anything else to do. Kuroo’s father didn’t seem surprised enough to see him working on his birthday, and didn’t ask him where his son could be.

This, and the way the others’ answers were extremely specific, was all suspicious. What was happening didn’t click in his mind when his mother came to the bookstore at around five, saying, “Let’s go for a drive.” It didn’t click while they were driving, either.

It clicked when he saw the sand. He saw the ocean and the waves; the grains in the sand and the person not so far away. He was sitting by the shore. Tsukishima turned to his mother. “Thanks,” he said, “for everything.”

She smiled and kissed him on his forehead. He rushed to the side of the one sitting on the sand. He was wearing the suit he wore on their first “date” to the concert. He was watching the tidal waves reach his toes repeatedly. Beside him was the most important thing: the cake. There were also containers of food, probably Chinese.

Tsukishima almost didn’t know what to say to this calmer version of Kuroo, who spoke first. He said with a smile, “Happy birthday.”

Tsukishima sat beside him. “…No. You can’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“I told you a long time ago that I hate surprises.”

“Oh, last year. And I’m pretty sure that I told you, ‘You’re not going to hate this one’.”

He sighed. He wasn’t going to say this, but his surprise came in upon realizing that it was his _eighteenth_ birthday. Last year, he’d celebrated it sick, but not alone. Ever since a year and a few months ago, he never could be alone.

His surprise came in upon seeing the degree of his change reflected in Kuroo’s eyes. He remembered that grand surprises were his thing, and it didn’t take long for him to get swept in his pace.

His surprise came in upon realizing that it didn’t take long for the gangster to become his world.

“That doesn’t explain why you disappeared this morning. You left me clueless,” he said, getting back to their conversation.

“Well, I figured that if I were to stay with you, I’d give everything away. So, I went to Tokyo, got the Chinese food, and stayed here. I called your mother when it was time.”

He didn’t bother asking him when he and his mother exchanged numbers. “Everyone but me knew about this, basically.”

“...Sorry?”

“No. Don’t apologize.” Tsukishima looked up at the sky. The sun was setting. “It’s just...I’m not used to this kind of treatment.”

He wasn’t describing it properly, but Kuroo still understood him. “What are you saying? I’ve spoiled you for an entire year, and then some.”

Realizing how true that was, he opened the food, took the chopsticks and ate slowly. He did so to hide his embarrassment, though it had always been something difficult to hide. It was peaceful as they ate, but the entire time Tsukishima was worried that Kuroo was going to push him down on the blanket and they were going to get busy _outside._ The beach was a ghost town at that time, but there was still the chance that someone would see.

“Don’t worry,” Kuroo said, reading his mind. “I won’t do anything.” Just then, he looked up, and there the red moon was. It had more of a pinker tone than a red one, but it was still a once in a lifetime sight. He prodded Tsukishima. “Look, look.”

“A…blood moon?”

“Yeah. I found out it was happening on National Geographic.”

Tsukishima looked at him mid-glare, as it was taboo to say that in front of him. “You dare to trust them after what happened last year when we were out all night?”

Kuroo laughed. “I knew it would bother you. But, see, they were right this time.”

Just as he was going to reluctantly agree, his phone vibrated. He saw that his brother texted him happy birthday and asked him what he was doing. “What should I say?” he asked Kuroo.

“Just tell him you’re at the beach with a friend.”

He did that, and luckily his brother didn’t ask any further questions. Kuroo then pulled out some loose leaf and asked, “Want me to read the first few pages?”

He was talking about his novel. Tsukishima was going to tell him not to write it on loose leaf, but instead he said, “Go ahead.”

Kuroo lowered his eyes and began. He read some words about nighttime and the moon, and got into his protagonist whose name awfully resembled the blonde. He stopped him. “Wait. Tsukiyama Keishin? Are you serious?”

“Quite.” He sighed and Kuroo continued. When he got to the part about Keishin being a private detective and that he lost his family in a fire, he looked up at Tsukishima, who was listening intently; the way he listened to his music. He saw his narrow, brown eyes behind his square frames and his growing blonde hair that danced in the breeze. Tsukishima wasn’t smiling, but he never had to be to get Kuroo’s body to respond.

It didn’t take much for his entire being to want him.

As Tsukishima noticed the change in mood, he knew Kuroo wasn’t going to continue reading. The latter set aside his papers and slowly leaned in for a kiss. Or three. An uncountable amount. “Liar,” accused the glasses-boy. “I see you taking out a condom.”

“W-well...think of it as a birthday present.”

“For you or for me?”

Kuroo ripped the buttons open on Tsukishima’s shirt. He said sarcastically, “Oh, I’m sorry, do you want me to replay all of the times when you moaned non-stop?”

He hated whenever he became sassy like this, because that meant he was rubbing off on him. “You know, I think I’m the one who spoils you.”

“That’s true, too.” Kuroo delicately circled his tongue around his nipples. He bit one, and Tsukishima clamped his hands around his hair. He was leaving marks wherever he could. Tsukishima jerked back as Kuroo felt him inside, stroking him. With every hot breath, the tide came to the shore and with each finger he inserted, Tsukishima felt that time stopped. He hated himself for going through with this, but also because he didn’t care if anyone saw.

Kuroo spread his hands out, firmly grabbing both cheeks of Tsukishima’s ass. When he determined that he was loose enough, he roughly entered him. As if time was running out, he was fast and merciless, arching his body forward and looking at his partner dead in the eyes.

 Just as he’d said before, Tsukishima let out slow, breathy moans that came out in smaller intervals as he got closer to climaxing. And when he did, Kuroo looked at him who was flushed with red. He pointed to the leather glove on his hand. With his smug smile, he said, “You came on my glove.” His voice was ragged and rough, like his attitude.

“I can see that. Are you done?”

“Wow, seems like our princess is upset.”

Tsukishima, taking offense to that, grabbed Kuroo’s other hand and bit him. “I’m not a princess.”

Kuroo responded with his body instead of his words; he didn’t climax yet so he continued while Tsukishima was still sensitive. He perched himself on Kuroo’s thighs, and the latter thrust up into him. His cheeks bounced on his legs and he held onto the dark-haired boy as if he were going to fall if he didn’t.

When Kuroo let out a loud, breathy sigh, somehow he became pleased with himself. He would probably never tell him this, but he wanted to be the only one to see and hear him this way. He liked being the only one.

* * *

The gang never celebrated Halloween because they didn’t want to spend money celebrating a holiday that didn’t _honor_ anything. But this year, Kuroo announced that they were going to do it. Obviously, he had a separate objective in mind that involved Tsukishima, but he wasn’t going to do the stupid thing and tell them. He just didn’t know that he didn’t have to, because it was clear when he bought the black cat costume.

He woke him up that morning with a simple kiss, though the sleeping beauty glared at him for doing so. He said he’d only had a few hours of sleep because he decided to work a late shift and that he should have known that because he was working at _his house._ Kuroo’s excuse was that he wasn’t home and was out trying to find their costumes.

“What costume? For me?”

“Yeah. It’s a...it’s a crow. You like crows, right?” He only lied because he knew Tsukishima would not comply to wearing a cat suit.

Even with this, he was hesitant. “Sure...”

Later that day, after buying the food, they returned to Tsukishima’s house and put on their costumes. Kuroo put on a bright white suit over a red button down with the buttons open at the top. He put sunglasses over his eyes and formal black shoes on his feet. He made sure to include the red handkerchief.

Tsukishima knew who he was dressed as, but didn’t want to believe it. Kuroo helped him put on the “crow” costume, only because he didn’t want him to realize it was a cat until after it was on. When it was zipped up, Kuroo stepped back in awe upon seeing how well it looked on him. It accentuated his behind, of course, and he had to fight the urge to pull at the tail. He also had to fight the urge to zip it back down and get on top of him.

The one in the costume wanted to take it off. It didn't suit him, despite whatever his strangely dressed partner was going to say.

“Why am I in a cat costume?” He’d thought it was a crow. He’d been told it was a crow. But then again, the one dressed as Scarface has lied before.

“Because you're my boyfriend,” he said.

“That logic makes no sense. Get this off me. And what gave you the idea to dress up as a Cuban drug lord?”

“No. This is my birthday present. But don’t I look good like this?”

He couldn’t object to either of those things. If it was for his birthday that was a month away, he could submit. And he _did_ make a good Scarface.

As they headed out to leave, Tsukishima’s mother stopped them. She had a camera in her hand and hearts in her eyes. “You two look so cute! Let me take a picture,” she said, beaming.

They stood in front of the door. Kuroo held Tsukishima close to him, resting his head on his shoulder. “One, two—” his mother began.

Right before the click and the flash, Kuroo whispered in a horrible accent, “Say hello to my little friend.”

“I guess this’ll do,” his mother said. The picture ended up being of Tsukishima mid-cackle, about to fall, and Kuroo wearing his usual smug smile. Despite it being his goal, he didn’t expect to actually make him laugh, because of his usual taciturn self.

The two of them expected the strange glances they received as they walked to the base. A black cat and Scarface were holding hands. Who _wouldn’t_ look?

Everyone else’s costumes were just as interesting. Although Kenma was himself, as they’d predicted, Inuoka was Frank Sinatra, and Kai was the Buddha. Tora was also himself, though a more pronounced gangster, with his mohawk gelled back and a constant frown. Yaku was a vampire and Lev was dressed as a vampire slayer.

They ate, played cards, and watched the two-hour special of _Detective Zero_. Even though they had a good time, they decided not to celebrate Halloween again.

* * *

Kuroo’s birthday came faster than they thought it would. The gang tried to prepare a surprise party for him that really only consisted of buying silk for Tsukishima to wear. However, this almost didn’t happen because of what transpired that afternoon.

Tsukishima brought the birthday boy to the mall and told him to pick out anything he wanted. Of course, his initial response was, “I want you,” but when they reached a store for kitchen appliances and he saw a waffle maker, he said, “This is it.”

“Why?”

“Recently, I learned that waffles are better than pancakes, and I want to be able to make them for you.”

Tsukishima should have expected something like this, but Kuroo’s dedication to him always surprised him. Sometimes, it frightened him and made his chest warm. “Okay,” he said. He leaned over and looked at the price—

“Kei?”

He turned around and almost instinctively ran away. He faced his older brother who, with a perplexed expression, was holding a rice cooker. He first looked at his younger brother, then turned his attention to the one holding a waffle maker with his back turned. “...This, are you with this person?” he asked his brother.

He didn’t know how to respond. Did he know it was Kuroo? No, he was asking to make sure. Just as he was going to speak, the one in question spun around and said, “Look who it is! Officer Tsukishima! I see you’re off duty.”

“That’s right, but what are you doing with my brother?” he said, his pupils growing wider by the second.

“Your brother? Oh, that’s why you he looked so familiar. We just happened to run into each other a few minutes ago. Right?”

“Right,” Tsukishima said, suddenly feeling slightly nauseous—most likely for lying to his brother. It wasn’t so much the lie itself as it was the fact that he knew he’d have to keep up the lie for a long time. He wasn’t sure he could do that.

Akiteru’s expression lifted only slightly, meaning that he still held his suspicion. “Kei, remember what I told you about him. Be careful,” he warned. It sounded like a warning to Kuroo as well.

After he purchased his rice cooker and was well out of their sight, the two exchanged looks. “This isn’t good, you know,” Tsukishima said.

“I know. He really doesn’t like me.”

“And most of that is because...” He trailed off, not sure of how he was going to take the rest. “He probably sees our father in you.”

Kuroo almost dropped the waffle maker. As they walked to purchase it, he said, “How could he? What? That makes no sense. I’m _nothing_ like him. _You_ don’t—”

“Of course I don’t. We wouldn’t be together if I did. Our father was a gang leader in his teenage years, and you know how we feel about him. That’s why.”

“Why does that make me so upset? It’s supposed to be my birthday,” he said to himself.

Tsukishima took his hand. “It is,” he declared. “Meet me in the base at six.” With a kiss goodbye, he ran off. Before Kuroo could get there, he wanted to pick up the silk robe from the guys. When he did, after trying to ignore their teasing smiles, he ran home to avoid Kuroo seeing him with it.

He’d asked himself why he was trying so hard to make him happy, but then he realized, how could he _not?_

But even at home, a nightmare awaited him. His brother was there, and suddenly it seemed as if he left them at the mall on purpose to surprise him here. “Yo,” he said. He looked at his bag, clearly curious. He didn’t ask about it until Tsukishima went to head out at five.

“Where are you going?” he asked casually, though it still felt as intimidating as an interrogation.

“Yamaguchi’s,” was the best answer at his disposal.

“What’s in the bag?”

“Silk...” He didn’t know what else to say but the truth.

“What are you going to do with that?”

“We’ll make a scarf or something. It’s getting colder, after all.”

He nodded. “That it is. Well, I won’t hold you up any longer. Have fun. Don’t stay out too late.”

“I know.” He only allowed himself a sigh of relief when he closed the door. He took his time walking to the base because he was trying to come up with a plan, just in case his brother caught on.

Then he reached the base, and still had no plan.

He sighed in relief again when he opened the door to their room and saw that Kuroo wasn’t there yet. He slowly removed his clothes and put on the white silk robe the gang bought. It was almost translucent. While he waited, he read the third installment of the _Sherlock_ _Holmes_ novel series, _The Hound of the Baskervilles._

When Kuroo arrived, he stopped at the doorway. He thought this was a dream, because there was no way Tsukishima would be wearing silk on his own accord. There was no way he could look almost ethereal in the white silk, bright and glowing. Kuroo couldn’t figure out when he had to have fallen asleep to see this, so he asked him, “Is this real life? Or is this my fantasy?”

“I mean, it’s both. Are you going to sit down or do I have to pull you over here? I don’t want to get up because it’s cold. I’m not wearing anything else,” he replied as nonchalantly as he could.

Kuroo fumbled as he went to sit beside him. “So, uh, do you want to do it?”

“Not yet. Take off your clothes first. Then lie down on your stomach.”

If they weren’t going to do it, what was he taking his clothes off for? Kuroo learned the answer to this question as Tsukishima rubbed his hands with lotion. He sat on top of his butt, which was arousing in and of itself, but then he pushed his fingers down on his shoulder. He also used his palm to massage the tense areas of his upper back. He moved down to his lower back and leaned over. He whispered into his ear, “Happy birthday. Now it’s _legal_ for you to drink.”

Kuroo let out a soft laugh. “That’s right...I’m twenty...I’m old...” He turned his head slightly and mumbled with what looked like a pout, “Stay with this old man, will ya?” He was feeling old even more because the massage instantly became something he never realized he needed until it happened.

Strangely, he felt like running because of it. He felt like he could go anywhere, but the one sitting on top of him was enough to keep him down. He liked the view.

After taking a few minutes to contain his amusement, Tsukishima answered, “Sure.”

 

They rode home on Kuroo’s motorcycle. They kissed goodbye (though it was a very long goodbye), and Tsukishima watched Kuroo enter the bookstore before going to his own house. He wanted to spend more time with him, but he knew he couldn’t; not while they were under suspicion. He was in a good mood upon stepping inside his home, but as soon as he saw the look on his brother’s face it disappeared.

He stepped back, but the door was there, so he had nowhere to go. His brother’s face wasn’t that of anger or terror. It was that of betrayal. Tsukishima’s fear then was similar to the fear of losing Kuroo to Nohebi, but that had burned him.

This was drowning him.

“I saw you kissing from the window,” he finally said. He didn’t respond. There was no way to belie what he saw. “Kei.”

His heart skipped a beat. “...What?”

“Break up with him.”

Those four words—that one command drowned him in a landslide. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see, and couldn’t hear. In that moment, he saw no way out. He knew, _he knew_ he should have made an escape plan.


	23. Fools

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't post this chapter on a holiday purposefully; I saw Wonder Woman and cried a lot, so this chapter is a bit late.  
> The thing about brothers, drinking with friends, tree lights, and the advent of a final fight. Enjoy!  
> 

“I don’t understand what you’re saying.” All he could do was pretend like he didn’t understand, to stall for some time to come up with the right words to say. Maybe there were no _right_ words, and instead the _truth_. Maybe this inevitable wall was impossible to climb.

Akiteru wasn’t letting up. “I _know_ you understand. You have a bad habit of being in denial like that.”

Tsukishima already knew his answer to his brother’s demand, but there was the matter of convincing him that there was no need to separate him and Kuroo. “Since you know me so well, you should know my response, right?”

He sighed, “Well, I guess. You seem to have been hiding it from me for a while, so it must mean something. But I don’t know the nature of your relationship with him. I don’t know how long it’s been going on for, and I don’t know if it’s real.”

“We’ve been dating for nine months.”

Akiteru’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Nine months? You’ve been hiding this from me for that long?”

“We met a little over a year ago.” He thought, _What are you saying, you fool? You’re digging your own grave._

“So, you didn’t heed my warning? At all?”

“No...” He wondered why he never did. Despite Kuroo’s advances, he had the chance to say no right from that day they met again in the bookstore. But it would have been futile to keep them apart then, because Tsukishima was drawn to him the way moths were drawn to fire. How was he only realizing this now?

“How did this even happen? I don’t mind that you’re in a gay relationship, but with someone so _unlawful?”_

“You don’t know him, Nii-san. Why do you think you do? Why do you think he’s like that man?”

Akiteru rolled up his shirt, revealing a scar on his abdomen that looked like a blot of paint. “You’re the one who doesn’t know. He’s been leading you on and making you believe his every word. Remember the time when I was in the hospital because I got shot while on a stakeout?”

“Yeah...”

“ _He_ did this. He took my gun and shot me. He was wearing a glove so I couldn’t get his fingerprints or pinpoint his location.”

Tsukishima heard from him that he’d shot someone once, but he never thought it was his brother. He wished Kuroo hadn’t done something so stupid, but they hadn’t met yet when it happened, so there was no way to prevent it. “But he must have had a reason.  Did you confront him first?”

He took his brother’s silence as a yes. “That doesn’t justify anything. You know that.”

He had to admit that he was torn. If Kuroo’s shot had killed his brother, he wouldn’t be with him. Surely, he would despise him enough that he might not be able to touch him. He was torn because all they’ve been through could not be tossed aside like that. Because he would probably still love him. He was a fool for doing so.

“I’m not leaving him,” he finally said. “I’m not choosing him over you. I just can’t leave him. I don’t want to.”

“Seriously...what words did he use to seduce you? I can’t believe you really have feelings for him.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ve never had feelings for anyone outside of this family. And Yamaguchi.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything. I _am_ human, if you didn’t know. I don’t think we can live without people to love. I don’t think we’re supposed to.”

His unexpected words resounded in Akiteru’s heart, but he could not give that heart to a relationship that he disapproved of. Every fiber in his being was rejecting it as if it were instinct. He could not put his faith in someone who was like a loose cannon; someone who could put his younger brother in danger any minute, someone who could get him killed.

Tsukishima continued, “You don’t know this, but he has a lot of anger bottled up inside. If I’m not there, he’ll open that cap subconsciously, and he won’t stop it from roaming free.”

“Exactly. I don’t need you to be his babysitter!”

“That’s not what I mean—”

A sudden slam of the door behind them stopped them immediately. Tsukishima turned around and saw his mother with a deadly expression. She never got truly angry at anything, not even their father, but now she was livid. She opened her mouth and her sons tensed. “Stop this, both of you. I can’t believe you, Akiteru. You try to make his decisions for him when you don’t know what Kuroo-kun is truly like?”

“But—”

“And Kei. How could you not tell your brother about it? Especially when you know you should have.” She released her tense expression and laughed, “I was standing here for a good three minutes, and neither of you noticed. Anyway, Akiteru, you don’t really have a say. It’s Kei’s choice. So, drop this matter for now.”

The thing about brothers is that they argue because they care. They fight out of their instinct to protect one another. They both understood that, but it still stood in the way of their compromise. The matter was reluctantly dropped as they prepared a late dinner. As the two of them exchanged wary glances, they were still holding it up with their feet.

 

The next day when Kuroo picked Tsukishima up from school, they walked to the base and last night’s events were relayed. After he spoke, he saw the pain in Kuroo’s face. He expected it, but he never wanted to see it again. He said, “While you shooting my brother is something _you definitely should have told me,_ don’t get hung up over it. Don’t lose to him.” _Or yourself._

“I know. Who do you think I am?”

Kuroo was surprised to see Tsukishima smile. “Tetsu. The guy it’ll take an army to bring down.”

He then said, “Are you sure about this, though? I’m coming in between you two, and I’m the one who could have killed him. I’m surprised you don’t hate me.”

“True. To be honest, if I were rational, I don’t think I would want to still be with you. But I guess feelings are irrational.”

Kuroo laughed, “That’s so something you’d say.”

“Besides, the only person I hate is Daishou.”

“Why?” He had to ask, though it had a “why not” answer.

Tsukishima frowned as if he was stupid for asking. “Because he almost killed you, obviously. And Ken-san.”

He cackled this time. “But you don’t hate me when I did the same to your brother?”

“I already said it’s irrational. And that happened before we met.”

They went back and forth for a while longer because Kuroo could simply not believe that he was blessed enough to have someone like him. “Let’s go on a date,” he suddenly declared.

“Huh? Where?”

They stopped in front of a family restaurant and Tsukishima was relieved that it was a normal place. After they sat, Kuroo said, “My treat.”

Now this, _this_ was strange. This almost never happened. In fact, it never did until today. Kuroo seemed like the type of person to spoil his date, but he often didn’t have any cash on him and he didn’t believe in cards or the government. Whenever they went out to eat it was spontaneous like this so he could never prepare any money beforehand, thus Tsukishima often paid for the meal. He thought the day would never come when he would say those two words.

“Are you okay? Is it a fever?” he asked, thinking about it seriously. “Or is this a dream...?”

“No! I’m perfectly fine! How could you think that?”

“It’s just that this never happens. You’re thinking about my brother, aren’t you?”

Kuroo put down the menu. “Not just him. About everything. About Daishou. And us.”

“What conclusion did you come to?”

“That nothing but you matters,” he said, looking directly into his eyes.

He always fell to that gaze. It always numbed him and silenced his thoughts. “...Hurry and decide,” he replied, “I want the strawberry-banana sundae.”

* * *

Tsukishima forgot one important thing when Kuroo turned twenty. He forgot that turning twenty meant becoming an adult, and that meant going out to drink on Christmas Eve. They’d planned on spending that day together by watching comedy shows, cooking and reading, but Kuroo went to him during his morning shift at the bookstore and clasped his hands together.

It was obvious he was apologizing, but Tsukishima tuned him out upon realizing this because he knew he would only be apologizing if they weren’t going to hang out, and that irritated him. Afterwards, when he ran off, his father turned to him and said, “You didn’t hear a word, did you?”

“No.”

“He said he’s going out with some friends. Probably drinking.”

“I see...”

“You should let him be. He doesn’t hang out in the city with his friends often. Besides, there’s always tomorrow.”

Kuroo’s father’s words were suspicious. He sounded as if he knew more than he let on. He asked him, “Uh, by any chance...do you know...about us?”

His father laughed similarly to his son. “Ah, so you found me out. I mean, it was obvious to me because you two seemed closer than best friends.”

“Well, I can’t deny that.”

Meanwhile, Kuroo was breaking the law by riding on a motorcycle with three people. He told Bokuto it was a bad idea, especially with Daichi in the back who was a heavy weight. They forced him to drive anyway because he was the best motorcyclist out of the three of them. They stopped in front of a bar.

It was about three PM, so they intended to stay there until late. The three of them caught up on the things they’d missed from each other’s lives, though Kuroo still saw Daichi as expendable. Bokuto ranted about how Akaashi was getting taller than him even though he was older.

“It’s not fair, you know? I’ve lived longer; shouldn’t I get some benefits?”

Kuroo shook his head. “No, no. It’s genetics. Survival of the fittest. Kei is taller than me, too.”

“Suga is shorter than me,” Daichi added, when Kuroo and Bokuto shot him threatening looks. He continued, “But I’m shorter than the both of you.”

“That’s more like it,” they said.

Sooner or later, Kuroo told them about Daishou and Akiteru. They almost didn’t respond because they had no good answer for him. Daichi spoke first: “I remember when you two first came to my shop. I never thought your relationship would turn into anything, but look at you now. It’s been a pretty eventful year. I don’t think you’ll let it go that easily.”

“Daichi, are you human? You’ve had three full glasses of that stuff already, and you’re making coherent sentences!” Bokuto exclaimed.

“Oh, well, I guess I have a tolerance for this stuff. Either that or it’s watered down.”

Bokuto turned to Kuroo. Opposite from what one would expect of his personality, he was a careful drinker. This was most likely because of Akaashi who most likely set ground rules (so that Bokuto wouldn’t end up doing something stupid and getting arrested). He didn’t have any advice and instead spoke his opinion. “I bet his brother’s never been in love before. That stuff transcends social boundaries.”

“Why are you talking like it’s an alcoholic drink?” Kuroo said, snickering.

“Because it kind of is! It messes you up and gives you a hangover when you take too much, but you’d still drink it all over again.”

“I see. I forgot this is how your brain works.”

“ _Anyway,_ about the snakes, I heard they’re preparing for a fight. With you.”

“Yeah. They sent us a letter yesterday. I hate how old-fashioned that guy is. It’s annoying,” Kuroo said.

Daichi then directed the conversation towards baths and his newfound love for bubble baths. This somehow led to an arm-wrestling competition between him and Kuroo in which Bokuto was the judge. It was an endless battle.

At this same time, Tsukishima was listening to his music in Kuroo’s room (he’s rarely gone home for the past month) when he received a phone call. It was Kuroo. “Hello?”

 _“Hey hey hey!”_ he said.

“Um, that isn’t your greeting. That’s Bokuto-san’s.”

_“Oh, that’s right. Guess where I am right now?”_

“At some bar in Sendai.”

Over the phone, he made a noise that sounded like a buzzer. _“Wrong! I’m at the tree lights.”_

The “tree lights” were what they called the line of trees that were decorated with lights in the winter. “Why are you calling, exactly? You seem to be having fun.” He didn’t say that he was clearly intoxicated.

_“It’s not Christmas Eve if you’re not here.”_

“Do you want me to go over there?”

_“Yeah.”_

He couldn’t say no. “Alright. I’ll be there in a bit.”

When he reached him, he was at first worried that he wouldn’t have been able to find him because there were so many people. But Kuroo was the only one near a man with white-gray hair and puking in a garbage can.

“Ah, Tsukki! Hey hey hey!” Bokuto said upon seeing him approach them.

“Forgive him. I know this isn’t the prettiest sight, but he had fun,” Daichi said.

“No, it’s fine. He needed this,” he replied. Slowly, he helped him up and told the other two to head home. When they were alone, he said, “The lights are nice.”

Kuroo looked up, still feeling sick. “The lights...” They were surrounded by trees wrapped in strings of small lights. It had snowed, so the snow sat on the branches and stuck to the ground below. It looked like magic, though they knew there was not such a thing.

Kuroo leaned closer towards Tsukishima, who dodged him quickly. “You stink. I’m not kissing you and tasting your vomit.”

“Love transcends social boundaries,” he whined.

“Yeah, okay, not hygiene boundaries.”

They rode home on his motorcycle. When they stopped in front of Kuroo’s house, he said, “You should go home. Your family is probably worried.”

He reluctantly went. When he opened the door, his mother and brother were sitting at the couch watching _Detective Zero._ He slowly approached them and his mother shot up and embraced him. His brother, though, was less celebratory.

“Have you been staying at his place?” he asked him.

“Yeah.”

He sighed and sat back down. He was probably trying to find a way to separate them. “You can’t,” he thought aloud.

“I can’t what?”

“You can’t separate us. If you really care about me, don’t do it.”

“That’s a compelling argument. But, Kei, while you’re smart, you’re also naïve. I can’t let him drag you down.”

His mother looked at them to stop.

The next morning, he went across the street to the bookstore. He didn’t go for Kuroo but instead his father. He had to get the opinion of an older man who wasn’t going to disapprove or tell him they were doomed. He told Kuroo’s father about his brother and asked him what he should do.

He said, “Find a way to make him understand. I can’t help you with that.”

“Okay.”

He closed the book he was reading and added, “You know, happiness is hard. But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth all the trouble. It means that it is.”

Later, at the base, everyone was discussing their futures. They were supposed to be preparing for the fight with Nohebi, but they overheard Lev telling Yaku that he wanted to go to college. It wasn’t just Lev; Tsukishima decided that it was the right time to tell Kuroo as well. He was prepared for an argument to ensue, but when he told him about college he only smiled.

“It sounds like you. You were never suited for this kind of life.”

“Well, that’s true, but I don’t hate it. I like the thrill of fighting. Wait, my point is—why are you not upset?”

He heaved a sigh, “Sometimes I feel like you’re a masochist. Do you want me to be mad at you? And for what, moving on with your life?”

“Do you have a fever?”

“Like I said last time, I don’t!”

“It’s just, you’re being so mature, and it’s weird.”

“I think _you’re_ the weird one. I’m already twenty. I’m not eleven anymore.”

Just then, Yaku pulled Kuroo over to the side. Lev walked over to Tsukishima. He seemed to be reading their lips, “Something about a gun, a bullet, and Nekomata.”

“Then the old man must’ve given in and handed Tetsu some bullets. If we’re going to win, then we need bullets,” Tsukishima told him.

“Seems so. Also, can I ask you something?” Lev turned to him with no laughter in his face. He was going to ask a serious question that would require a serious answer.

“Go ahead.”

“How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

Lev lowered his head. “How can you be so calm about this? Aren’t you worried that Banchou will die?”

Tsukishima responded as if he’d been waiting for someone to ask him this. “Even if I worry, it won’t turn into some power that’ll keep him from harm. It’s useless. All you should do is let him be. And instead of trying to protect him, maybe fight alongside him. Because all of us fools hate being protected.”

Lev bit his lip. He didn’t want to do any of that, but he considered that Yaku probably felt the same way.

The meeting place was a deserted area in the boonies. There was a scarce number of trees and grass and lifeform in general. There was a river that separated the two gangs with different ideals, but with the universal motive of revenge and “this has to end now.”

Daishou stood in front of Nohebi. Kuroo stood in front of Nekoma. He looked back at Tsukishima, who was already looking at him. He was waiting for a form of objection, a plead to not go. There was nothing except for his eyes that, whenever looked at him, were looking _into_ him.

“I won’t say don’t do it,” Tsukishima said. “I know you’re going straight for Daishou. Besides, I’m fighting with you.” There was a pause, then the corners of his lips raised. Was it a smile? At a time like this? He was frowning and even though the darkness of the night hid his face, the afterglow showed Kuroo it was a smile.

“What is it?” he asked him. “Am I doing something funny?”

“No, no.” He reached out and smoothed Kuroo’s face with his hands. “Go kick his ass.”


	24. Beautiful Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fight, a bullet, a mother, and sacrifices for beautiful things. The song is Radiohead's "Creep."  
> So, I just want to say thanks to all of you who've read this messy story up to this point. Writing and reading take a lot of patience and time. I hope that you'll read it to the end!

Daishou, for once, didn’t know what to say to them. He stood, speechless, in front of his gang. They looked readier than he did. They always looked more certain than him. After glancing at Kuroo on the other side, he said to them, “You ready?”

“Yeah, are you?” Kuguri said to him.

“Yeah.”

He was finally going to end their five-year long battle. Thinking about it, though, he realized that it felt twice as long since they met. He remembered that it was raining that day, and they were at a graveyard. Daishou had gone to visit his father. To his dismay, Kuroo went to bury a beetle.

“Who’re you?” he'd asked the boy with strange hair. “What is that? A beetle?”

“Yeah. Got a problem? He was a good friend.”

“That’s weird but...okay...”

“I’m not weird!” Kuroo had said defensively. “You’re the weird one for coming to see a person who’s already gone.”

Daishou immediately smacked the beetle out of his hand. “What’s wrong with you?! Saying that to a stranger.”

Kuroo leaped onto him, growling, and they tackled one another. They pulled at their hair and face and kicked and punched. Afterwards, with ragged breaths, they sat in front of the grave. “So, who are ya anyway?” Kuroo asked him.

“Daishou Suguru. You?”

He knew that name as the name that was associated with the Nohebi gang. His enemy. “Kuroo Tetsurou.”

“Ya know, you kind of resemble a cat.”

“Oya? I do?”

“A lazy cat,” he laughed.

Back then, it seemed like nothing could separate them. But then they met in battle and discovered they were supposed to be enemies because of the previous generation's mistakes (though no one had told Kuroo the truth until recently).

The two did wonder of what it would be like if they stayed friends, if none of this were to happen. But Daishou couldn't forgive the person who killed his father. He couldn't forgive the people on Nekomata's side.

Kuroo, near the water, looked at his gang one last time. He gestured for them to circle together. “We're like the blood in our veins. We must flow without stopping. Keep the oxygen moving and your mind working.”

“Who are we?” he exclaimed.

“Nekoma!” everyone replied.

On Nohebi’s side, Kuguri held up a gun. As soon as he fired it, they ran to each other, meeting up in the shallow lake. Kuguri returned the gun to Daishou, who fired successive shots in Kuroo's direction.

The bullets missed his body, though one grazed his thigh. He almost fell. He continued to run and kicked it out of his hand. He immediately followed up with a right cross to his face. Gaining the momentum, he repeated his punch, but Daishou dodged under his arm and jabbed his stomach.

Coughing, but not falling, Kuroo sped behind him and suspended his arms. Pinning him down, he looked around to see how the others were fairing. He was glad Kenma seemed to be into it for once, especially since he was a skilled fighter. He saw Tsukishima beside him, whose expression was placid as usual, even as he got hit in the face.

 _His beautiful face..._ Kuroo lamented to himself.

Just then, Daishou jerked up, hitting Kuroo’s forehead. He reached for his gun and pointed it at him. He, even at gunpoint, smiled. “You and your smug smile,” Daishou said, “I hate it.”

“So, what are you going to do? Shoot me? Kill me? That thing in your hand...is not a toy.”

“Does it look like I don’t know that?”

“Yes, actually. Because who knows how many people you’ve hurt with that thing?”

Daishou lowered the gun and laughed dryly. “When we first met, I thought you were a nice guy. I respected you.”

_Same here._

“But then I learned the truth about Nekomata. Then my entire opinion changed.”

_I know._

“It’s not your fault, I know. But where else am I supposed to release my anger?”

_I don’t know._

“That’s why...”

As soon as he lifted the gun again, Kuroo rushed towards him and seized the lever. He returned a headbutt and took the gun. He took out his own gun, the one Nekomata finally gave him bullets for. Daishou held his bleeding nose. “Go on. Shoot.”

Kuroo pointed his gun in silence, then in an instant he shot at his arm. He purposefully grazed it. “I’m pretty sure your father wanted to protect you. He went about it the wrong way, but still.” He set both guns on the ground. “What about you? What are you trying to protect? What are you living for?”

“Obviously, I’ve been trying to find that out myself!” Daishou ran to his gun, but Kuroo blocked him. During their tackle, the gun ended up in both of their hands and went off haphazardly. Kuroo stopped. A feeling of dread overcame him. He looked overy his shoulder. He saw Tsukishima.

More specifically, he saw a _staggering_ Tsukishima, who had blood flowing from the sides of his mouth. On the side of his stomach, he saw a red spot turn into a red flower. If this had been any other time, if he’d been shot by anyone else, he would’ve ran to him in a heartbeat.

But his heart was beating, and he was still. He was frozen.

“KUROO! What the hell are you doing?! Stop spacing out! Stand up!” Yaku shouted at him.

“You idiot, he’s really going to die if you just sit there,” he heard Daishou say. This triggered movement in him. He clenched his fists, tighter than ever, and hit him with the hardest cross punch he could. He continued to beat on him until he remembered who was more important.

His legs woke up and went to Tsukishima’s side. The dirt below him dragged his feet. He, then, felt like dirt. He felt heavy and chained and dirty, but he still held Tsukishima. The boy with the wound was breathing heavily and looking at him. His straightforward gaze never wavered. “Instead of holding me...why don’t you take me to the hospital? I'm feeling numb here...”

Kuroo looked at Yaku, who shook his head. “No ambulance is coming out here.”

“Then I’ll take him to the city on my motorcycle.”

No one dared to object to him then because he wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Slowly, after using his jacket to stop the bleeding, he carried him to Hermione. “This is so lame...” he muttered. “After I said all that, this happens.”

“Stop talking. The lame one is me.”

“...Did you kick his ass, at least?”

The gravelly yet soft tone of his voice caused by the wound reminded Kuroo how much he needed to hear that voice. What would become of him if he could never hear it again?

“Yeah,” he said, pushing back the lump of pain in his throat. Otherwise, he would have started to cry. “I kicked his ass.”

 

He was able to get doctors to perform immediate surgery to remove the bullet. He sat in the waiting room, a nervous mess. It wasn’t the surgical operation that frightened him. It was that he knew the hospital was going to call Tsukishima’s family, since he couldn’t _not_ let the hospital tell them. That included his brother.

When they arrived, the first thing Akiteru did was grab Kuroo by his collar and pin him against the wall. “How could you let him get hurt?”

He grabbed Akiteru’s fists. “Let go of me.”

“Answer me.”

“I already feel like shit because I couldn’t. I know I don’t deserve him. But I love him, Akiteru-nii. Can you at least let me do that?”

The policeman released him. “Don’t call me that. It’s weird.”

“But, when Kei and I get married—”

“That’s not happening, trust me!”

“See, you guys get along just fine,” said Tsukishima’s mother. She turned to Kuroo. “Listen, Kuroo-kun.”

“Y-yes?”

“Can I ask that you not let this happen again? I’ve let it slide before, but as his mother, I can’t let this continue.”

He gulped. “Right. I understand.”

When the surgery ended, the three were relieved to hear that Tsukishima made it. The doctor said that normally, someone wouldn’t have, after losing so much blood. He said that he was resilient. When he woke up, he allowed them to see him.

Kuroo was the last of them to go. He saw Tsukishima sitting up and looking at the ceiling. He was clad in white. Kuroo realized what it felt like being on the receiving end of this situation, as last time he was the one in the bed and Tsukishima was the one suffering.

“Hey,” he said.

The one in the white robe with a tube coming from his arm looked at him. He looked like he hadn’t almost died, though his bruises were forming. He looked at him smugly, as if to say “Now you know how I felt.”

“Even in that bed, you’re still so edgy,” Kuroo said. “You don’t even look happy to see me.”

“What are you talking about? That _was_ my happy face,” he joked.

“Don’t lie.”

Tsukishima then patted the side of the bed. Kuroo sat on it, leaned over and planted a soft kiss on his lips. “You know, I thought you’d be more upset. It’s kind of disappointing,” Tsukishima said.

Kuroo laughed lightly. “I was, until I saw you. I’m just glad I can hear your voice. Besides, the fight is over, I think. There's something I have to do soon.”

 

Kuroo hadn’t seen his mother in two years, so the fact that she came home without warning was more than a shock. He was speechless for about a half-hour before looking at her and talking to her. She was as beautiful as ever; her short, pointy dark hair and her half-lidded eyes added to her charm. She looked young to everyone else but Kuroo and her ex-husband.

“Wait, so, why are you here?” he finally asked her, too dumbfounded to be excited.

“Why not? I haven’t seen you in so long, and this is how you treat me? I birthed you, boy.”

His father stepped in. “Why don’t you spend time with her?” _Because I don’t want to,_ Kuroo thought he heard.

Therefore, he spent the day with his mother. They went to a coffee shop they’d always went to before, talking about nothing and about everything. _Everything._ That included the hospitalized Tsukishima.

“Your father’s been keeping me updated on your life. So, I know about your boyfriend and that he’s injured.”

“Why would he—”

“Because you would never tell me. I have a right to know these things.”

He grumbled, “So? What do you think?”

“About you and Kei-kun? I think it’s fine. Or rather, I would think it’s fine if you two had your lives together. Especially you.”

A timer suddenly began in Kuroo’s mind. He was subconsciously counting down the time it would take for her to get to her point. Whatever it was, surely it wasn’t good. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that it isn’t okay. I’ve heard that you two are in a pretty serious relationship, but do you understand the responsibility of that?”

“Get to your point, Ma. Please.”

“Okay. Then, why is Kei-kun in the hospital right now? Because of your fight. Because one of you idiots accidentally pulled the trigger. Because you spend your time playing with guns and drugs instead of learning. Or working. If you stay together right now, this won’t end well. I don’t think you’ll have a future.”

“What do you want me to do about it?”

“I intend to take you with me back to America.” Suddenly, the timer went off in his head.

“You want to give us space.”

“Exactly. Tetsu. I understand that you probably love him, but you need to figure yourself out first. What will you do when you’re not fighting anymore?”

His mother made a damn compelling argument. He almost had no comeback. “I get it. I get it.” The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Tsukishima. But the first thing he’s always wanted to do was make him happy. And if going away for a while would do that in the long run, then he was alright with that. No, he _had_ to be alright with that. He suddenly realized that Akiteru was going to have a field day after hearing about this.

“Alright,” he said. “And who knows? This all might have a beautiful ending.”

 

When it came to Tsukishima, Kuroo couldn’t keep a secret in for very long. Knowing this, he reluctantly went to tell him the news at the hospital. He was going to dread every second of explaining it, but he would hate himself more if he’d kept it to himself until the time came and they’d separate on horrible terms.

On his way, he saw a familiar face leaving. He stopped. The snake looked up at him and scowled. “Not you.”

“I could say the same, damn snake.”

“ _Tch._ Here to see your boyfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“I just visited him.”

Kuroo narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“It’s my fault this happened to him, that’s why. I, uh, thought about what you said. I got rid of my gun.”

“Oh, same. Having it is not only a crime, but an annoying burden.”

“So, I’m going to find a job...and stuff. I still don’t like you, though.”

“Same here. I’ll never be able to forgive you for all of this. But _I_ won’t scowl when I see your face anymore. See ya.”

Daishou sighed in relief. “That’s how it should be.”

When Kuroo saw Tsukishima, he wanted to ask what he talked about with Daishou, but decided that it wasn’t his place to ask. He greeted him with kisses to calm his nerves for what was about to happen. He kissed his lips and his earlobes. He kissed around his neck. He didn’t want to stop. He wanted to continue kissing him everywhere. He wanted to run his hands in his blonde hair forever, if he could. How was he going to live without doing this?

“What’s up with you?” Tsukishima breathed in between their kisses.

“Forgive me.”

“Tell me what you did, first.”

“My mother came home.”

“Oh, really? I’d like to meet her.”

“Yeah. She and I got to talking, and...how do you feel about America?”

Tsukishima’s eyes immediately widened. He didn’t say anything, mainly because he was thinking. He was concluding. The way Kuroo was acting, the way he was talking, the way he touched him like he was holding on all pointed to one thing. He didn’t want to believe it. Any of it. “Are you leaving?” he asked, unaware of the pained expression in his face.

“My mother wanted to leave my father so badly she moved to another country. Now, she wants me to leave you. But I've decided to go through with it. Only for a few years.”

“Okay.”

Kuroo drew closer to him. “Kei. Don’t do that. Tell me how you feel.”

What if those feelings had no words to contain them? “You know you were the one who started all of this, right? You dragged me into your pace, and now you want to leave? And you’re telling me this when I’m here because of you?”

Kuroo squeezed his cold hands. “I know. When I look at you, I...I see everything that matters. It’s terrifying, to be honest. This past year and a half with you, I’ve been on cloud nine. But I realized that because of you, I forgot who I am. I just want to find myself again. Then we can live without having to go through things like this.”

Tsukishima couldn’t be upset with that, since it was for himself and for them. Objectively, it made some sense, but recalling how he was when Kuroo went off for that meeting, he had no clue how he was going to spend his years. He figured, though, that’s exactly why this was happening.

“Then, are we breaking up?” he asked, with a slight shake in his voice. This, neither of them wanted to answer. They already knew it, anyway. “Say something,” he continued, though he knew Kuroo saying it aloud would make it final and true.

Nothing was said. Kuroo instead reached out his hands as if to grasp something that was slipping, and touched the top of Tsukishima’s head. He stroked his blonde hair, matted from the hospital pillows. Kuroo pulled at his small ears that were overshadowed by his glasses. He knocked their foreheads together. They weren’t going to say anything.


	25. Us, and Other Finite Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A list of finite things.  
> If you want to be technical, this chapter is the last one and the next chapter is an epilogue, but the next one can also simply be the last chapter (if you want to be really technical). The song is Paramore's "The Only Exception."  
> Enjoy.

**1\. Yamaguchi’s Anger**

Almost a year ago, when he Tsukishima first told him he had feelings for Kuroo Tetsurou, he laughed. He hadn’t seen his cynical friend having feelings for _anyone_ , much less romantic feelings. They’d spoken about how dangerous he was, so how did that lead to falling in love? _Love?_ He’d thought it was all a very elaborate joke. Then he asked him why.

_“I wish I didn’t. To be honest, I don’t know why. I don’t think I ever will. But...”_

_“But?”_

_“Is it possible for you to feel like both yourself and a different person around someone?”_

_“I don’t know something like that.”_

_“He’s a lot of trouble, but I don’t think anyone else has changed me so much while letting me be myself. I hate him because he doesn’t realize that the things he does can make someone like him so much that they don’t know what to do with themselves anymore.”_

Yamaguchi had no choice then but to take him seriously. It was the first time he’d heard him speak so much about his feelings, even though it was in a roundabout way and the tone of his voice sounded indifferent. He’d replied, _“I think that’s because he’s liked you from the start? He treats you differently from others.”_

 _“Oh. I see.”_ After some silence, he continued, _“Yamaguchi.”_

_“Yeah?”_

_“Don’t I talk too much?”_

He laughed until his abdomen began to hurt. _“Yes, yes you do.”_

Yamaguchi Tadashi knew how much his friend loved Kuroo. And because he knew this, his anger was tenfold when he heard from Akiteru that Tsukishima had gotten shot and was in the hospital. He’d been in the hospital before, but a bullet could have killed him instantly. He was one centimeter of luck away from losing his best friend.

At the hospital, he saw that the bullet wound (that would leave a scar) seemed to be a trivial thing compared to the wound that was forming his chest. His face said it all: that something had happened between him and Kuroo and it was not something good. Tsukishima explained it to him slowly, as if he was breaking down after each word.

“So, that’s it? You’re just going to end it after all you’ve been through?”

“I don’t know. Neither of us _said_ anything about breaking up, but it’s eventually what’s going to happen.”

“And you won’t try long distance?”

“The point of him leaving is so that we’re not together.”

“But it’s not forever, right? He’ll come back.”

Tsukishima curled the hospital bed sheet in his hands. He was gripping it tightly. Yamaguchi wondered if he was seeing it as an anchor. “What if he doesn’t? What if he’s a completely different person by the time he’s done with school?”

“Are you saying that you won’t love him anymore if he’s different?”

He didn’t know what to say to that. Instead, he continued listing his worries: “Since I won’t be there, when he comes back he’ll have another world of friends and people I won’t know about.”

“You,” said Yamaguchi, with grit in his voice.

“What?”

He explained his thought, “The only reason he’d ever come back in the first place is because of you. I think so. I hope so.”

The words brightened Tsukishima’s eyes for only a second. His eyes went back to their dimness as they looked to the ceiling. Yamaguchi had said only words, and Kuroo was still leaving. Yamaguchi felt heat flooding his veins. He clenched his fists until the tips of his fingers turned white and cold, while his blood was rushing to his head. With the words, “I want you to be happy,” he left the room, infuriated.

 

**2\. The Nekoma Gang**

They were prepared for the worst when he called them together that Saturday morning. They were prepared for this, to hear these words come out of Kuroo’s mouth, but no amount of readiness could have numbed the pain.

“Guys. I’m disbanding Nekoma.”

Three words. Three painful arrows. His voice sounded as if he were going to take back his declaration any minute, but that minute never came.

“Why?” The one to ask this had to be Lev. He was the only one out of them fearless enough to hear the truth.

Kuroo looked at him, glad that someone asked. “Do you think we can go on like this? A few of us are already in our twenties. The rest of you should be furthering your education. There’s nothing left, anyway. Daishou won’t bother us anymore.”

To everyone’s surprise, the one who shouted, “But there’s still _us_ , isn’t there? Don’t say there’s nothing left!” was Inuoka.

Kenma stepped closer to him. “Tell us the real reason you’re doing this.”

“That is the real reason. Seriously. But I’m also leaving.”

“Leaving? What do you mean?” Yaku said.

“You know how my mother came out of the blue. She told me she was going to take me back to America with her for a few years.”

“And you’re letting her?” The tone in Yaku’s voice almost frightened him.

“Yeah.”

No one fought with him then. They would have, but they saw a look in his face that told them he’d fought with himself in making the decision already. There was that and there was also someone they knew who was probably taking it worse than them.

“How did the newbie take it?” Tora asked. His acknowledgement of Tsukishima showed through his concern. He suddenly realized he couldn’t call him a newbie anymore, since there was no more Nekoma. No one could.

Kuroo softly smiled. “He’s upset, of course.”

Aside from him, the six of them were somehow able to find amusement in imagining Tsukishima’s grumpiness, unaware that he was actually experiencing sadness for the first time.

“We’re still friends, right?” Kuroo asked them after a while.

Kai was going to say that they were not friends, they were family, but Yaku said that for him by gesturing for a group hug. The seven of them: Kuroo, Kenma, Kai, Yaku, Lev, Tora, and Inuoka felt each other’s warmth as they came together. They stayed like that for more than a minute. Kuroo spoke with a croaky voice, fighting his tears, “We're like the blood in our veins. We must flow without stopping. Keep the oxygen moving and your mind working...Who are we? Who will we always be?”

“Nekoma,” they replied.

 

**Yamaguchi’s Anger (cont’d.)**

When he stormed into the Nekoma hideout, it was silent. At first, he didn’t see anyone there, but then Kuroo poked his head out of a room in the back. He rubbed his eyes as if he’d just been taking a nap.

“You’re...Yamaguchi?” he asked. “What are you doing here? How did you even find this place?”

“I asked around.” He went to the bike repair place where he first met Kuroo and asked Daichi where Nekoma’s base was. He would have asked Tsukishima if he didn’t already know that he wasn’t going to tell him. He drew closer to Kuroo and grabbed his shirt. He knocked him down to the floor, trying to ignore the swell and redness in his eyes. Had he been crying? No, there was no way.

“Tell me,” Yamaguchi shouted, “Why do you keep hurting him?”

“What?”

“Tell me why.”

“That’s not a question I have an answer to.”

Yamaguchi lifted him up by his shirt and slammed him on the floor again. “Do you even realize how much he cares for you? He’s not going to tell you not to go.”

Kuroo grabbed his forearms, slowly pushing him away. “I’m not stupid. I know. Which is exactly why I’m going anyway.”

“So you’re leaving him for his sake?”

“No. It’s for mine. Ultimately, for us. But he’s going along with my selfishness. Do you think I’m so stupid that I’d let go of him so easily?”

Yamaguchi finally let him go. “So there’s no changing your mind?”

“No.”

The freckled boy sighed. He didn’t know what else to do with his frustration, so he let it go. “Don’t tell Tsukki this, but I don’t like you.”

Kuroo shrugged. “Not many people do.”

 

**3\. Weekend Eloping**

Somehow, the only way they could deal with the impending separation was by running away from it. Right on the day of Tsukishima’s discharge from the hospital, Kuroo took his hand and told him that they were going to the mountains.

“Are we eloping?” he asked him.

“No!” he laughed, “I’m sorry. It’s only for the weekend. I’m leaving on Monday.”

“Oh.”

“Are you disappointed?”

“Truthfully, no. Honestly, yes.”

He laughed again. “You really are funny.”

“But...I’m not.”

He didn’t feel like explaining that his deadpan nature was the hilarious part, so he sighed.

On the train ride, there wasn’t much to do or talk about, but Kuroo did tell him that he dissolved the gang, and it wasn’t just because he was leaving. “It’s time to move on, you know? You can’t be angry forever,” he reasoned.

After that, Tsukishima let him take a well-deserved nap on his shoulder.

They didn’t go straight to the hot springs in the mountains when they got off the train. Kuroo led Tsukishima to a car rental agency where he rented a sleek, but conspicuous red car.

“Since when did you know how to drive?” Tsukishima asked him as he got in the passenger’s seat.

“Since last week when I got my license. I wanted to surprise you. I barely passed, though.”

“Um, what? You’re telling me this after we got in the car?”

“Because if I told you before, you wouldn’t have gotten in.”

“You’re right about that. Get me out of here. I’m not dying in a place like this.”

“Oi! Who said you’re gonna die? Don’t you trust me?”

As soon as he said that, Tsukishima remembered when, a long time ago, Kuroo had asked him that same question underneath a bridge, covered in water. Back then, he said he did and he jumped.

“Fine.” His eyes drifted toward him; more specifically the side of his neck and his Adam’s apple. He saw small dark hairs scattered on his chin and worried that he was growing a beard. At first, the thought made him want to hurl, but as he looked at him drive and imagined it, he didn’t think it would be so bad.

He thought of all the hair he’d seen on Kuroo. His bedhead, his regular hair (which he claimed were the same, but Tsukishima disagreed), his wet hair, his armpit hair (strangely, his armpits never smelled bad), his arm and leg hair, the excuse for hair on his knuckles, his pubic hair.

Wishing he hadn’t, he realized that there was not a form of hair on him that he disliked.

“I prefer the motorcycle,” he blurted out. Even though in the car, he could see his profile and that was certainly not a bad thing, he would rather be closer. He would rather feel him and feel the vibrations through his skin. These things made him feel alive.

To his surprise, Kuroo replied, “You and me both.”

Arriving at the hot springs, Kuroo paid for their baths. Tsukishima wondered why he wasn’t paying for a room as well, so he asked him. His answer didn’t surprise him as much as it would have had they not been dating for almost a year. “I didn’t have enough money for a room. So I thought, since I’m renting the car anyway, we might as well sleep there. And we can explore later.”

Explore? As if they were children again?

The thought sounded troublesome to him as they submerged themselves in the hot water. It was ten at night and they were the only two in the water, so Kuroo didn’t hold back with his kisses. He reveled himself in licking the drops of steamed water on Tsukishima’s skin. He brushed his hands over his body, from his thighs to his butt to his chest to his neck. Sometimes he wished he could consume him. Taste him. He knew it sounded weird and slightly creepy, but he also knew it was because his desire to want him hadn’t changed for over a year. He hoped and prayed that it never would.

“You don’t look at me and see a piece of mackerel, do you?” he asked him, red past his ears.

“What? Of course not. I’m not fish-sexual. I’m gay. You don’t understand, your body is—”

Tsukishima covered his mouth with his finger to stop him. “If you say anymore, I’m throwing you out.”

“But it was a compliment.”

“Exactly.”

Sometimes this part of him was actually endearing.

 

The only food they could eat with their funds combined was at a nearby McDonald’s. There, the late-night news was playing on a small television atop the fridge where drinks were sold. The anchorwoman spoke of yakuza and gangs, and the recent confession of a certain boy to the police. The boy confessed to them that he’d illegally processed and sold drugs to a yakuza syndicate.

His name was stated. Kuroo and Tsukishima exchanged glances, but they didn’t say a word about it. There was nothing to say.

Suddenly, in towards the end of their burgers, fries, and death in the form of a carbonated drink, a few of the employees came out of the kitchen with something in their hands. They were singing the “Happy Birthday” song, looking at him, with a candle on their signature apple pie.

Tsukishima whispered to Kuroo, “You didn’t tell them it was my birthday, did you?”

“I did. Pretend you’re turning eighteen.”

“Did you want the desert to be free? When it’s already cheap?”

Unapologetically, he replied, “Yes.”

The two of them snickered, holding back laughs because it would make them suspicious. Tsukishima looked at the candle on the small apple pie and wished that he and Kuroo could return to this one day.

He looked up and saw that Kuroo had already finished his own apple pie.

 

That night, they slept in the car. They would go exploring in the morning, probably for the whole day.

“Give me more of the blanket, Kei,” Kuroo said, struggling to get comfortable. “It’s cold.”

Tsukishima did not budge. “I know it’s cold. It’s December. Why did you only bring one blanket?”

“Well, this is the _Harry Potter_ one. It’s my favorite. It has the Ravenclaw crest and everything. Besides, I thought we were going to sleep _together_. We are eloping, after all.”

Hearing this, he immediately felt his cheeks burn. Why, after all this time? “You’re so...” he started, but didn’t try to finish. He got up from the passenger’s seat and didn’t know how, but fit in the driver’s seat facing Kuroo on his side. The latter pulled him in, and he could feel his breath on his neck.

They fell asleep like that, with the blanket over them both.

 

That sunrise, Kuroo woke Tsukishima up and they went out. The blonde was grumbling because he was drowsy and wanted coffee. He had no intention of searching for nature’s treasures as they used to. Or, so he thought until he saw a centipede. It was so long and fascinating to him that he didn’t catch it and instead followed it to wherever its destination was.

This, he would learn, was a horrible idea.

Kuroo was looking for Rhinoceros beetles. When he found one, he turned to show Tsukishima, but he wasn’t behind him. He wasn’t next to him or in front of him or above him, even. “Kei?” he called. “Kei.”

He wondered if this was how Tsukishima felt on their planetarium date when he’d lost him for just a few minutes. He felt lost himself, in a sea of trees, nowhere to go. Nowhere to be found.

He ran. He felt better running instead of standing there. “Kei!”

A quiet, “Tetsu?”

He stopped and searched. He saw a leather glove and some blonde behind a maple tree. He embraced him on sight. “I thought I lost you.”

“Well, I lost _you_. I was following a centipede.” As he noticed Kuroo wasn’t letting go, he said, “I’m not lost anymore. You found me.”

They then walked around to find a river. Kuroo suggested that they catch their own food. The two decided to get the blanket from the car and sleep near their makeshift fire. They woke that morning with many bug bites.

On their last day together, the only time they left the car was for breakfast and lunch, both at McDonald’s. For the rest of the day till the evening, they stayed in one another’s proximity. Kuroo read to Tsukishima the next few parts of his novel. Quietly, in the tranquil enclose of their bright red rental, the blonde listened to his voice read the sentences he created.

And when he finished, they said goodbye. They did not use words. They used actions. Kuroo turned the passenger’s seat as low as it could go. He tore off his clothes, as if he were upset. No, he _was._ “People who love each other shouldn’t have to live a world away,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

Tsukishima, taking off his own clothes, laughed. “If you were really sorry, you wouldn’t go. It’s lame to hold it against you, so just shut up.”

Kuroo kissed him harder than he ever had. He even kissed his newly formed scar. He was fast and slow and gentle and rough, and Tsukishima could no longer tell the difference between these things. He looked up at him, also seeing the roof of the rental and mumbled, without thinking, “You look brighter in the dark.”

“What did you say?” Kuroo asked.

“Nope. Nothing.”

“Are you su—”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“...Oh, well.” Kuroo paused. To tease him, he poked and prodded at his nipples. He said, “I’m bright, huh?”

Flaring red in his face, Tsukishima almost punched him, but he caught his fist. “You heard me.”

“We’re in the middle of nowhere in a tight space, trying to have sex. Do you think you can be quiet?”

Now, he knew he couldn’t. Kuroo continued, sucking him slowly, to savor the moment. Because he liked to be a tease, he grinded on him and kissed him and did not let him breathe. Even after Tsukishima came once, his arms around the bend of Kuroo’s neck, the latter did not waste a second. He put himself inside, realizing how good Tsukishima felt and how he will never get used to the sight of him trembling under him.

When he heard sniffling and felt heavy breathing on his nape, he stopped. “This is exactly why I’m leaving. All I’ve done is make you cry. And your character is _not_ a crier.”

Tsukishima frowned. “But I’m not crying, my nose was just stuffy. And I’ve only cried once. So calm down. You know you’ve done much more than that.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“Do you?”

“I do.” Somehow, saying that reminded Kuroo of the present he had in his pants pocket. As he bent over to get it, Tsukishima snickered at the heart birthmark on his butt. He pinched it. “Hey!” cried the victim.

“Sorry. I couldn’t resist.” His eyes wandered to the velvet box in his hand. “What...is that?” His heart raced as Kuroo opened the box. “Is this why you didn’t have enough money for a room? You’re not serious about this...are you?”

“I am.” He took out one of the silver rings and grasped Tsukishima’s left hand. “Can I?”

He looked away. Kuroo took this as a yes. He placed the ring on his ring finger. Shaking, Tsukishima took the other ring and put it on the ring finger of Kuroo’s left hand, removing the leather glove he’d always worn. Afterwards, he undid the band on Tsukishima’s glove. “It’s time to let these go.”

“Why?”

“It kind of feels like I’m holding onto the past, wearing them. It feels weird.”

“I get that. What I don’t get it why you decided to do this ring-thing in the middle of _this_. The mood is completely gone.”

“What are you talking about?” chortled Kuroo as he propped Tsukishima’s legs up. “Hasn’t it just gotten better?”

 

**4\. Motorcycle Rides**

It was two in the morning when Kuroo and Tsukishima reached the bookstore. They weren’t ready to leave each other just yet, and Hermione was _calling_ _out_ to Tsukishima. They hoped on for one last ride.

Tsukishima felt the vibrations. He felt the wind and the heartbeat of the one in front of him. He smelled the strawberry—he could almost taste it—in his hair and saw the leather of his jacket. He ingrained these senses in his mind so that he would not forget them.

Even when Kuroo parked Hermione and they were about to part on the empty street, they didn’t say anything with their tongues. Except for kissing. Kuroo grabbed Tsukishima’s arms firmly, to remember how he felt: lanky arms with some muscle. He looked at his glasses and his feet and his hands.

 _“I love you,”_ his actions whispered.

 _“I know,”_  Tsukishima's actions whispered back.

On the empty street that separated their homes, they parted.

 

**5\. Us (Tentative)**

Akiteru was sitting on the couch watching some sports show when Tsukishima came home. They looked at each other with no words. Once Akiteru opened his mouth to speak, Tsukishima stopped him. “I’m not in the mood,” he uttered grimly.

It was silent after that.

Later that morning, Tsukishima woke to his brother’s hands grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. “Wake up! What are you doing, sleeping in like this?”

“What...oh, do I have school?” he asked slowly, still half-asleep.

“Yeah, but that’s not what I’m talking about. You know his flight leaves in an hour! Are you not going to see him off?”

He didn’t understand; was Akiteru _encouraging_ him to see Kuroo? “Why would I want to see him leave?”

“It’s not about that. It’s about regret. I know you’ll regret it later if you don’t see him one more time.” His older brother sighed, siting on his bed. “Normally, I wouldn’t want for this to happen. But he’s changed you, and I can’t thank him enough for that. I want you to be happy. If you attain even a little bit of that by seeing his face again, then I’m alright with that.”

Tsukishima got out of bed and stretched his legs. Akiteru asked him what he was doing and he said, “I’m going to see him.”

Before Akiteru could tell him not to run there, he already had his running sneakers on and was about to head out. He turned and saw the dinosaur hoodie that Kuroo gave him last year. He hadn’t worn it in a while.

He ran. He ran like the wind. Pushing against the Earth, he ran so fast his strides felt like leaps. The world could take his love away from him, but it could not stop him from running to his side. No one could.

When he reached the airport, he felt like an idiot as he went around looking for flights to New York. As the time for the flight drew closer, he was tempted to turn on his heel and head home, but he knew he couldn’t forgive himself if he did.

“Tetsu,” he said, not quite a mumble or a shout. “Where are you?”

Just then, he heard a voice ranting about how the display price for something was different from the charge. He turned to the voice and saw him standing beside his mother. He was frustrated and irritated, but it was _his_ face, and that was all he needed. He walked over to him and tapped his shoulder. He turned around angrily, but upon seeing Tsukishima’s face it was as if he was never angry in the first place.

“What are you doing here?” he said, paying the full price for his drink anyway.

“Give me the mixtape I made. I have to make a change.” Tsukishima had realized something as he ran to the airport.

“Okay...but why?”

“Just give it.” He took out a marker and crossed out “Moon” from “For the Moon.” He changed it to “You.” It became “Songs for You.” He explained, “These songs aren’t for anything or anyone. They’re for you.”

Kuroo shut his eyes and held himself back from touching him one more time. Tsukishima took the initiative and touched Kuroo’s palm to his cheek. “I need you to come back.”

“Do you remember saying that I found you?”

“Yeah.”

“I promise I’ll find you again.”

Tsukishima was aware that not once so far had he kept a promise. Now was the time to start. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

Kuroo’s mother walked up to him then. She gripped his shoulders and said, “I’m sorry. If he doesn't return, then I'm even more sorry.”

Slowly, he watched Kuroo get on the escalator going up. Though it seemed like that moment was never going to end, once he got off the escalator, he was gone in an instant. Moments were finite. Time was finite. Their relationship, evidently, was finite. Suddenly feeling a hollow in his chest, he wondered about infinite things. He remembered the silver ring on his finger and held it up to the light. _It’s fake silver,_ he thought.


	26. Kuroo and Kei, III: Infinite Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you sosososo much for reading this long, drawn-out fic!! The ending was definitely the most difficult part in writing this story, but I am satisfied with it. Actually, I love it (though I'm biased).  
> As a whole this fic ended up being a lot more serious and emotional than I initially thought, and I made many changes throughout. My favorite part is the beach birthday in chapter 22.  
> The finale: a list of people who arrive at the bookstore, and something everyone knows that Tsukki does not. The song (my most favorite song) is "With or Without You" by U2.  
> Enjoy!

There’s nothing Yaku hates more than Lev’s haircut. It makes him look like a child, even though he’s already twenty-two. His cut is buzzed in the back and something of a quiff in the front. He can’t understand it or why it happened yesterday, when they were walking around town and stumbled across a barber shop.

At the time, it seemed like a good idea; Lev’s hair had been growing out to his shoulders and he needed a trim. Spring is a time for change. Yaku was the one who suggested it, but Lev took charge in choosing a style. Allowing that was his biggest mistake.

“Yaku-san, don’t I look handsome?” Lev asks him for the fifth time.

Every time, Yaku struggles to answer. “You look great.”

In moments like these, Yaku thinks about Kuroo, who would tell Lev bluntly that it makes him look like a rapper who struggles to make ends meet. But since Kuroo isn’t with them and Lev is his boyfriend, he can’t say it.

“Why’d you even get that kind of style?” he asks him, tangling their legs on their couch. They’re reading magazines and choosing to be lazy instead of unpacking the boxes at the front of the door.

“Tora-san’s wedding is tomorrow, so I wanted to look nice.”

“I totally forgot he’s getting married.”

“How? He’s told us like ten times!”

“It’s just difficult to process. I still can’t believe there’s a woman who’d put up with him for the rest of her life.”

“I guess.” Lev sets the magazine down and looks at Yaku at the other end of the couch. “But it’s not that difficult to imagine. I mean, haven’t you been putting up with me just fine?”

Yaku’s face heats at the smile Lev makes. He remembers that he’s no longer that fumbling fifteen-year-old giant. “I could say the same to you.”

“That’s for sure. It took you forever to let us move in together.”

“That’s because I was still trying to find a permanent job! And you asked me so flippantly, like you were talking about the weather!”

Lev shrugs. “Whatever you say. By the way, how is he?”

“He?” Yaku pauses. “You mean Tsukishima?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m not really sure. He’s probably restless, because it’s been four years, but you know how he is. He’s not an open book.”

“I see.”

“Are you worried?”

“Kind of.” Lev recalls the first few days after Kuroo left. Tsukishima didn’t talk to anyone but his friend Yamaguchi. He was aloof and showed no signs of recovering for a while. It wasn’t until Bokuto and Akaashi came to visit that he returned to the way he was.

When Lev had asked Akaashi what they said to him, he answered, _“I told him that Kuroo-san wouldn’t want to see him that way. Bokuto-san said, ‘How do you want to face him when he comes back? With that crappy expression? I don’t think so. Hold your head up, or else you’ll look like a crooked old man when the time comes.’ Wasn’t he cool?”_

Lev couldn’t understand what Tsukishima was going through until Yaku left for Osaka for job training. He then understood what it was like to not have your closest friend and partner by your side.

“Lev. Oi, Lev. Are you listening?” Yaku’s voice pulls him back from his thoughts.

“Sorry. What did you say?”

“I asked if you wanted to visit him.”

“Oh, sure...” Lev’s eyes wander towards the unpacked boxes. “Are we ever going to get to those?” he asks.

Yaku’s face pales. He clearly wants to avoid it. “Y-yeah. Eventually.” He gets up from the couch and stretches. “We should get ready if we’re going to go.”

Seeing an opportunity, Lev grins and pulls Yaku back down on top of him. “Before that...” he begins.

“What?” Yaku says, then it registers in his mind. His face flushes. _“Now?_ Here?”

Lev pulls him in closer and dives onto his lips. “Consider it housewarming.”

Suddenly, Yaku feels a vibration in his pocket. He pushes Lev away and answers his phone. “Hello?...Ah, is that you, Kuro?” Lev watches his face brighten. He exclaims, “Seriously?! You are?”

 

When Kuroo Tetsurou, twenty-three, hears about the Harry Potter convention and the twentieth anniversary editions of the books, it takes him a great amount of restraint to not call Tsukishima and tell him to come. It agonizes him. He goes anyway, with Oikawa Tooru (who is also, unfortunately, in America). He takes pictures and buys enough merchandise for the two of them.

He can’t wait to tell him. If Tsukishima still thinks of him, that is. Impatient, he takes out his phone and dials a number. After that call, he dials some more.

 

Tsukishima has no idea what he’s doing anymore. He knows he’s currently wrapping up some books for some customer at Kuroo Books, in place of the store manager whose health is deteriorating. He’d never made any promise to Kuroo to keep the store alive and kicking in place of his father, so he _doesn’t_ know why he’s still there. And why he can’t leave. It’s been four years; who knows when— _if_ he’s coming back?

The years haven’t been terrible, though. After their disastrous encounter at the same university, Kageyama Tobio somehow became his friend. Or reluctant acquaintance. Whenever he needs someone to talk to, he’s there, as is Yamaguchi. But he would say things like, “Just do it, dammit,” or “What the hell’s wrong with you?” or “If Hinata can do it, you should be a pro.”

Overall, he’s still annoying, so they don’t speak too often.

Which explains his surprise upon him being the first person to visit him at the store today.

**1\. The Annoying Guy**

“Yo. I want a book on astronauts.”

Tsukishima leers at him. “Sorry, we don’t sell books for people with a limited vocabulary.”

Kageyama scoffs. “Says the guy who calls ‘ketchup’ ‘red stuff.’ Just find me a book.”

“Why do you care about astronauts all of a sudden?”

He looks away as he says, “Well, Hinata...has been really interested in space recently and his birthday is coming up soon...”

“Ha. I see. Should’ve known.”

He flares. “Get me a book already!” Seeming to have remembered something, he pauses. “Hey, do you know what’s happening tomorrow?”

“Do you mean Tora-san’s wedding?”

“No, Daichi-san told me that...you know, never mind. It’s not my business.”

Tsukishima isn’t curious enough to pry further.

**2\. The Idiot Couple**

“Hey, hey, hey!”

Even if he’d said something different, Tsukishima would know it’s Bokuto by the sound of his voice. He knows he and Akaashi are at Miyagi for the wedding, but doesn’t think this means they have to visit him.

No, maybe for them, it does.

“What’s up?” Akaashi asks. His hair is up to his shoulders and while he has no visible facial hair, Bokuto has a growing goatee. Tsukishima imagines it isn’t there.

“Nothing. Which is why I’d appreciate it if you bought something.”

“Speaking of books, you guys should be receiving a new shipment soon,” he replies. It’s a strange thing to say, especially since it seems as if he’s being ambiguous on purpose.

Tsukishima asks, “What do you mean?”

“Nothing, just, be on the lookout.”

He hears Bokuto whisper to him, “And you say _I_ have a big mouth.”

“Because you do. You have big hands, too. Mine fit right in.” He smiles, taking his hand.

**3\. His Older Brother**

When Akiteru arrives, it’s clear that he’s in between happiness and remorse. These are two different extremes, but they’re what Tsukishima sees. He wonders if his brother is going to act strange like everyone else.

He’s spot on. “Hey, Kei. Did you eat? How did you sleep? Oh, how’s his father?”

“Nii-san. I’m fine. Tetsu’s dad is fine.”

“O-Okay. Good. I’m happy for you. But, really, I’m not thrilled—ah, I’m not hiding anything! Seriously, I promise!”

Tsukishima finishes putting some books to recycle in a box. “I know you’re lying. You’ve always been a bad liar.”

Akiteru, giving up on whatever he was just fighting, smiles at him. “Tomorrow, I hope you have fun.”

**4\. The Snake**

Seeing Daishou is a surprise among surprises. He can’t think of a reason he’d show up. Not too long ago, he was released from prison, and since then, via Yaku, he heard he’s been doing well. Just what does he want to talk to him about?

“Hi,” he says. His eyes are still beady and his smile is still sly, but Tsukishima can tell it’s genuine.

“Hi.”

“I heard he left you,” he continues, “I feel like it’s partially my fault.”

Devoid of hesitation, Tsukishima replies, “Yeah, it is. You started the fight.”

He clears his throat, “ _Anyway,_ I’m going to the wedding tomorrow. I’m looking forward to seeing—” He stops, slaps himself in the face, and rushes out.

**5\. The Groom and Ken-san**

They walk into the store louder than Bokuto, which means something. Tora is older, taller, and while his appearance is mature (namely, the suit and tie) his speech isn’t. He’s still loud and tends to use the least amount of words to convey his feelings. When Tsukishima had heard about his engagement, he realized that if there was a good ending—or beginning—for him, then there had to be hope for himself.

He tried to believe that.

Kenma is still short, looking even more so because of his haircut. He shoves Tora up to the checkout counter. “Go on,” he says.

“Kenmaa,” Tora whines.

“If you can’t even do this, then how will you say your vows?” Kenma reprimands.

Tsukishima begins, “Ken-san, what’s go—”

He’s interrupted by Tora, who lowers his head and declares, “Be my best man!”

He doesn’t know how to respond. Many people have been doing the unexpected today, but this tops the charts. Him? _Him_ , the guy who hardly did anything nice for anyone? “Why me?” he asks. “And this is _way_ late. Isn’t the wedding tomorrow?”

“It was supposed to be Kenma, but I kept thinking that you had to be in it, and he told me to ask you anyway. I wouldn’t be marrying this woman if not for the advice you gave me,” he explains, and Tsukishima realizes just how important his past with Nekoma is.

He can’t turn him down. “Okay. I’ll do it. But don’t expect a good speech.”

“Don’t worry. Be your deadpan self. Tonight is the rehearsal dinner, don’t forget!”

As they head out to leave, Kenma stops. Over his shoulder, with the light from the sky radiant behind him, he says, “We’re all glad Kuro introduced you to us, Kei.”

**6\. His Best Friend**

Yamaguchi is fidgety the entire time he’s talking to Tsukishima. _Does he even know he’s talking about three different things?_ “Yamaguchi, why did you come here?”

He tightens his lips as if he doesn’t want to say what he’s about to say. “Tsukki, do you still have feelings for Kuroo-san?”

Tsukishima knows to choose his words carefully. He isn’t exactly sure of what he feels. “I have a lot of feelings for him. The top one being frustration.”

“I mean, do you still love him?”

He likes to think he isn’t sure, but the ring that has never left his hand must be proof of something. He holds his hand up. “What do you think?”

“I see.” Yamaguchi sighs, maybe of relief. “That’s good. I was worried, because you don’t wear your emotions on your sleeve.”

“What are you talking about? Everyone who’s stopped by seems to know something I don’t.”

“It’s nothing,” he blurts out, but changes to, “Or, I guess it’s something.”

**7\. The Lemon and Honey**

Tsukishima is almost angered upon seeing Yaku and Lev enter the store. He officially hates working on some weekends. He isn’t interested in another pair that won’t tell him anything and will instead give him vague clues.

“What do you want?” he sighs.

“Oi, don’t be like that. We came to cheer you up,” Lev says.

“I highly doubt that’s possible.”

Yaku hands him a book. “We were...told to give this to you. It was sent to us a month ago, and I read it. It’s pretty good.” It has a black cover with red characters written like spray-paint. On the side, there was a name. The author’s name.

The title: _Tsukiyama Keishin’s Infinities_

The author: Kuroo Tetsurou

His heart could have stopped in this moment. The novel in his hands is a reminder of four years ago, when he’d been by him as he began writing. It was now finished, and the fact that Kuroo remembers Tsukiyama Keishin means that he remembers Tsukishima Kei. He has to.

Tsukishima tightens his grip on the book. _Tetsu,_ he says to himself,  _is he...?_  He says to Yaku and Lev, “I’m going to read it now.”

They smile at him and leave, hand in hand. He opens the book. On the dedication page in the beginning, it reads:

_For Kei, my favorite song_

As if he wasn’t already falling apart from shock and embarrassment, the first line of the book reads: _“I’m coming now,” Tsukiyama Keishin said to his wife, who had been waiting for him. “I’ll be there tomorrow.”_

**8\. His One and Only**


End file.
